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BOOK    8  17.2.IR8   V.  10    c.  1 

IRVING    #    WORKS    OF    WASHINGTON 

IRVING 


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THE     ALHAMBRA, 


HUDSON   EDITION 


THE   ALHAMBRA 


BT 


WASHINGTON   IRYING 


A  UTHOR'S  BEVJSEB  EDITION 


NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 

G.    P.    PUTNAM'S    SONS 
%\t  Jlnickerkitker  ^rcss 


Hnterea  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1865,  by 

George  P.  Putnam, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  Yorfe 


COj^TENTS. 


PAGE 

The  Journey 13 

Palace  of  the  Alhambra 54 

Important  Negotiations. — The  Author  succeeds  to  the  Throne  of 

BOABDIL 72 

Inhabitants  of  the  Alhambra 81 

The  Hall  of  Ambassadors 87 

The  Jesuits'  Library 94 

Alhamar.  the  Founder  of  the  Alhambra 96 

^usef  Abul  Hagig,  the  Finisher  of  the  Alhambra 106 

The  Mysterious  Chambers 113 

Panorama  from  the  Tower  of  Comares 134 

The  Truant 133 

The  Balcony 138 

The  Adventure  of  the  Mason 147 

The  Court  of  Lions 152 

The  Abencerrages 162 

Mementos  of  Boabdil 178 

Public  Fetes  of  Gtranada 184 

Local  Traditions 195 

7 


8  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

The  House  of  the  Weathercock 199 

Legend  of  the  Arabian  Astrologer 203 

Visitors  to  the  Alhambra 229 

Relics  and  Genealogies 235 

The  Generaielfe 240 

Legend  of  Prince  Ahmed  al  Kamel  ;  or,  The  Pilgrim  of  Love 243 

A  Ramble  among  the  Hills 285 

Legend  of  the  Moor's  Legacy 297 

The  Tower  of  Las  Infantas  325 

Legend  of  the  Three  Beautiful  Princesses 327 

Legend  of  the  Rose  of  the  Alhambra 359 

The  Veteran 381 

The  Governor  and  the  Notary 384 

Governor  Manco  and  the  Soldier 394 

A  Fete  in  the  Alhambra 418 

Legend  of  the  Two  Discreet  Statues 425 

The  Crusade  of  the  Grand  Master  of  Alcantara 449 

Spanish  Romance 460 

Legend  of  Don  Munio  Sancho  de  Hinojosa 464 

Poets  and  Poetry  of  Moslem  Andalus 473 

An  Expedition  in  Quest  of  a  Diploma 483 

The  Legend  of  the  Enchanted  Soldier 488 

The  Author's  Farewell  to  Granada 507 


PREFACE  TO  THE  REVISED  EDITION. 

OUGH  draughts  of  some  of  the  following  tales 
and  essays  were  actually  written  during  a  resi- 
dence in  the  Alhambra ;  others  were  subse- 
quently added,  founded  on  notes  and  observations  made 
there.  Care  was  taken  to  maintain  local  coloring  and 
verisimilitude ;  so  that  the  whole  might  present  a  faith- 
ful and  living  picture  of  that  microcosm,  that  singular 
little  world  into  which  I  had  been  fortuitously  thrown ; 
and  about  which  the  external  world  had  a  very  imperfect 
idea.  It  was  my  endeavor  scrupulously  to  depict  its  half 
Spanish,  half  Oriental  character ;  its  mixture  of  the  he- 
roic, the  poetic,  and  the  grotesque  ;  to  revive  the  traces 
of  grace  and  beauty  fast  fading  from  its  walls ;  to  record 
the  regal  and  chivalrous  traditions  concerning  those  who 
once  trod  its  courts  ;  and  the  whimsical  and  supersti- 
tious legends  of  the  motley  race  now  burrowing  among 
its  ruins. 

The  papers  thus  roughly  sketched  out  lay  for  three  or 
four  years  in  my  portfolio,  until  I  found  myself  in  Lon- 
don, in  1832,  on  the  eve  of  returning  to  the  United  States. 

I  then  endeavored  to  arrange  them  for  the  press,  but 

11 


12  PREFACE. 

the  preparations  for  departure  did  not  allow  sufficient 
leisure.  Several  were  thrown  aside  as  incomplete ;  the 
rest  were  put  together  somewhat  hastily  and  in  rather  a 
crude  and  chaotic  manner. 

In  the  present  edition  I  have  revised  and  rearranged 
the  whole  work,  enlarged  some  parts,  and  added  others, 
including  the  papers  originally  omitted ;  and  have  thus 
endeavored  to  render  it  more  complete  and  more  wor- 
thy of  the  indulgent  reception  with  which  it  has  been 
favored. 

Wc       I. 

Stmnyside,  1851. 


MOORISH    GATEWAY. 


The  Alhambea. 


THE   JOUENEY. 

N  the  spring  of  1829,  tlie  author  of  this  work, 
whom  curiosity  had  brought  into  Spain,  made 
a  rambling  expedition  from  Seville  to  Granada 
in  company  with  a  friend,  a  member  of  the  Eussian 
Embassy  at  Madrid.  Accident  had  thrown  us  together 
from  distant  regions  of  the  globe  and  a  similarity  of 
taste  led  us  to  wander  together  among  the  romantic 
mountains  of  Andalusia.  Should  these  pages  meet  his 
eye,  wherever  thrown  by  the  duties  of  his  station, 
whether  mingling  in  the  pageantry  of  courts,  or  medi- 
tating on  the  truer  glories  of  nature,  may  they  recall  the 
scenes  of  our  adventurous  companionship,  and  with  them 
the  recollection  of  one,  in  whom  neither  time  nor  dis- 
tance will  obliterate  the  remembrance  of  his  gentleness 
and  worth.* 

*  Note  to  the  Revised  Udition. — The  Aathor  feels  at  liberty  to  men- 
tion that  his  travelling  companion  was  the  Prince  Dolgorouki,  at  present 
Russian  minister  at  the  Court  of  Persia. 

13 


14  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

And  here,  before  setting  forth,  let  me  indulge  in  a  few 
previous  remarks  on  Spanish  scenery  and  Spanish  trav- 
elling. Many  are  apt  to  picture  Spain  to  their  imagi- 
nations as  a  soft  southern  region,  decked  out  with  the 
luxuriant  charms  of  voluptuous  Italy.  On  the  contrary, 
though  there  are  exceptions  in  some  of  the  maritime 
provinces,  yet,  for  the  greater  part,  it  is  a  stern,  melan- 
choly country,  with  rugged  mountains,  and  long  sweep- 
ing plains,  destitute  of  trees,  and  indescribably  silent 
and  lonesome,  partaking  of  the  savage  and  solitary  char- 
acter of  Africa.  What  adds  to  this  silence  and  loneli- 
ness, is  the  absence  of  singing-birds,  a  natural  conse- 
quence of  the  want  of  groves  and  hedges.  The  vulture 
and  the  eagle  are  seen  wheeling  about  the  mountain- 
cliffs,  and  soaring  over  the  plains,  and  groups  of  shy 
bustards  stalk  about  the  heaths  ;  but  the  myriads  of 
smaller  birds,  which  animate  the  whole  face  of  other 
countries,  are  met  with  in  but  few  provinces  in  Spain, 
and  in  those  chiefly  among  the  orchards  and  gardens 
which  surround  the  habitations  of  man. 

In  the  interior  provinces  the  traveller  occasionally 
traverses  great  tracts  cultivated  with  grain  as  far  as 
the  eye  can  reach,  waving  at  times  with  verdure,  at  other 
times  naked  and  sunburnt,  but  he  looks  round  in  vain  for 
the  hand  that  has  tilled  the  soil.  At  length  he  perceives 
some  village  on  a  steep  hill,  or  rugged  crag,  with  mould- 
ering battlements  and  ruined  watch-tower :  a  strong- 
hold, in  old  times,  against  civil  war,  or  Moorish  inroad ; 


THE  JOURNEY.  15 

for  the  custom  among  the  peasantry  of  congregating  to- 
gether for  mutual  protection  is  still  kept  up  in  most 
parts  of  Spain,  in  consequence  of  the  maraudings  of  rov- 
ing freebooters. 

But  though  a  great  part  of  Spain  is  deficient  in  the 
garniture  of  groves  and  forests,  and  the  softer  charms  of 
ornamental  cultivation,  yet  its  scenery  is  noble  in  its 
severity  and  in  unison  with  the  attributes  of  its  people ; 
and  I  think  that  I  better  understand  the  proud,  hardy, 
frugal,  and  abstemious  Spaniard,  his  manly  defiance  of 
hardships,  and  contempt  of  effeminate  indulgences,  since 
I  have  seen  the  country  he  inhabits. 

There  is  something,  too,  in  the  sternly  simple  features 
of  the  Spanish  landscape,  that  impresses  on  the  soul  a 
feeling  of  sublimity.  The  immense  plains  of  the  Castiles 
and  of  La  Mancha,  extending  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach, 
derive  an  interest  from  their  very  nakedness  and  immen- 
sity, and  possess,  in  some  degree,  the  solemn  grandeur  of 
the  ocean.  In  ranging  over  these  boundless  wastes,  the 
eye  catches  sight  here  and  there  of  a  straggling  herd  of 
cattle  attended  by  a  lonely  herdsman,  motionless  as  a 
statue,  with  his  long  slender  pike  tapering  up  like  a  lance 
into  the  air;  or  beholds  a  long  train  of  mules  slowly 
moving  along  the  waste  like  a  train  of  camels  in  the 
desert ;  or  a  single  horseman,  armed  with  blunderbuss 
and  stiletto,  and  prowling  over  the  plain.  Thus  the 
country,  the  habits,  the  very  looks  of  the  people,  have 
something  of  the  Arabian  character.     The  general  inse- 


16  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

curity  of  the  country  is  evinced  in  the  universal  use  of 
weapons.  The  herdsman  in  the  field,  the  shepherd  in 
the  plain,  has  his  musket  and  his  knife.  The  wealthy 
villager  rarely  ventures  to  the  market-town  without  his 
trabuco,  and,  perhaps,  a  servant  on  foot  with  a  blunder- 
buss on  his  shoulder ;  and  the  most  petty  journey  is 
undertaken  with  the  preparation  of  a  warlike  enterprise. 

The  dangers  of  the  road  produce  also  a  mode  of  travel- 
ling resembling,  on  a  diminutive  scale,  the  caravans  of 
the  East.  The  arrieros,  or  carriers,  congregate  in  con- 
voys, and  set  off  in  large  and  well-armed  trains  on  ap- 
pointed days ;  while  additional  travellers  swell  their 
number,  and  contribute  to  their  strength.  In  this  primi- 
tive way  is  the  commerce  of  the  country  carried  on.  The 
muleteer  is  the  general  medium  of  traffic,  and  the  legiti- 
mate traverser  of  the  land,  crossing  the  peninsula  from 
the  Pyrenees  and  the  Asturias  to  the  Alpuxarras,  the 
Serrania  de  Eonda,  and  even  to  the  gates  of  Gibraltar. 
He  lives  frugally  and  hardily :  his  alforjas  of  coarse 
cloth  hold  his  scanty  stock  of  provisions  ;  a  leathern  bot- 
tle, hanging  at  his  saddle-bow,  contains  wine  or  water, 
for  a  supply  across  barren  mountains  and  thirsty  plains  ; 
a  mule-cloth  spread  upon  the  ground  is  his  bed  at  night, 
a^d  his  pack-saddle  his  pillow.  His  low,  but  clean- 
limbed and  sinewy  form  betokens  strength  ;  his  complex- 
ion is  dark  and  sunburnt ;  his  eye  resolute,  but  quiet  in 
its  expression,  except  when  kindled  by  sudden  emotion ; 
his   demeanor   is   frank,  manly,  and   courteous,  and   he 


THE  JOURNEY.  17 

never  passes  you  without  a  grave  salutation :  "  Dios 
guarde  a  usted ! "  "  Va  usted  con  Dios,  Caballero  !  " 
"  God  guard  you !  "  "  God  be  with  you,  Cavalier !  " 

As  these  men  have  often  their  whole  fortune  at  stake 
upon  the  burden  of  their  mules,  they  have  their  weapons 
at  hand,  slung  to  their  saddles,  and  ready  to  be  snatched 
out  for  desperate  defence  ;  but  their  united  numbers  ren^ 
der  them  secure  against  petty  bands  of  marauders,  and 
the  solitary  bandolero,  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  mounted 
on  his  Andalusian  steed,  hovers  about  them,  like  a  pirate 
about  a  merchant  convoy,  without  daring  to  assault. 

The  Spanish  muleteer  has  an  inexhaustible  stock  of 
songs  and  ballads,  with  which  to  beguile  his  incessant 
wayfaring.  The  airs  are  rude  "  and  simple,  consisting  of 
but  few  inflections.  These  he  chants  forth  with  a  loud 
voice,  and  long,  drawling  cadence,  seated  sideways  on  his 
mule,  who  seems  to  listen  with  infinite  gravity,  and  to 
keep  time,  with  his  paces,  to  the  tune.  The  couplets  thus 
chanted  are  often  old  traditional  romances  about  the 
Moors,  or  some  legend  of  a  saint,  or  some  love-ditty ;  or, 
what  is  still  more  frequent,  some  ballad  about  a  bold 
contrabandista,  or  hardy  bandolero,  for  the  smuggler 
and  the  robber  are  poetical  heroes  among  the  common 
people  of  Spain.  Often,  the  song  of  the  muleteer  is  com- 
posed at  the  instant,  and  relates  to  some  local  scene,  or 
some  incident  of  the  journey.  This  talent  of  singing 
ajid  improvising  is  frequent  in  Spain,  and  is  said  to 
have  been  inherited  from  the  Moors.  There  is  some- 
3 


18  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

thing  wildly  pleasing  in  listening  to  these  ditties  among 
the  rude  a^  .d  lonely  scenes  they  illustrate  ;  accompanied, 
as  they  are,  by  the  occasional  jingle  of  the  mule-bell. 

It  has  a  most  picturesque  effect  also  to  meet  a  train  of 
muleteers  in  some  mountain-pass.  First  you  hear  the 
bells  of  the  leading  mules,  breaking  with  their  simple 
melody  the  stillness  of  the  airy  height ;  or,  perhaps,  the 
voice  of  the  muleteer  admonishing  some  tardy  or  wan- 
dering animal,  or  chanting,  at  the  full  stretch  of  his 
lungs,  some  traditionary  ballad.  At  length  you  see  the 
mules  slowly  winding  along  the  cragged  defile,  some- 
times descending  precipitous  cliffs,  so  as  to  present 
themselves  in  full  relief  against  the  sky,  sometimes  toil- 
ing up  the  deep  arid  chasms  below  you.  As  they  ap- 
proach, you  descry  their  gay  decorations  of  worsted 
stuffs,  tassels,  and  saddle-cloths,  while,  as  they  pass  by, 
the  ever  ready  trabuco,  slung  behind  the  packs  and 
saddles,  gives  a  hint  of  the  insecurity  of  the  road. 

The  ancient  kingdom  of  Granada,  into  which  we  were 
about  to  penetrate,  is  one  of  the  most  mountainous  re- 
gions of  Spain.  Vast  sierras,  or  chains  of  mountains, 
destitute  of  shrub  or  tree,  and  mottled  with  variegated 
marbles  and  granites,  elevate  their  sunburnt  summits 
against  a  deep-blue  sky  ;  yet  in  their  rugged  bosoms  lie 
ingulfed  verdant  and  fertile  valleys,  where  the  desert  and 
the  garden  strive  for  mastery,  and  the  very  rock  is,  as  it 
were,  compelled  to  yield  the  fig,  the  orange,  and  the  cit- 
ron, and  to  blossom  with  the  myrtle  and  the  rose. 


THE  JOUBNEY.  19 

in  tiie  wild  passes  of  these  mountains  the  sight  of 
walled  towns  and  yillages,  built  like  eagles'  nests  among 
the  cliffs,  and  surrounded  by  Moorish  battlements,  or  of 
ruined  watch-towers  perched  on  lofty  peaks,  carries  the 
mind  back  to  the  chivalric  days  of  Christian  and  Moslem 
warfare,  and  to  the  romantic  struggle  for  the  conquest  of 
Granada.  In  traversing  these  lofty  sierras  the  traveller 
is  often  obliged  to  alight,  and  lead  his  horse  up  and 
down  the  steep  and  jagged  ascents  and  descents,  resem- 
bling the  broken  steps  of  a  staircase.  Sometimes  the 
road  winds  along  dizzy  precipices,  without  parapet  to 
guard  him  from  the  gulfs  below,  and  then  will  plunge 
down  steep  and  dark  and  dangerous  declivities.  Some- 
times it  struggles  through  rugged  barrancos,  or  ravines, 
worn  by  winter  torrents,  the  obscure  path  of  the  contra- 
bandista;  while,  ever  and  anon,  the  ominous  cross,  the 
monument  of  robbery  and  murder,  erected  on  a  mound 
of  stones  at  some  lonely  part  of  the  road,  admonishes  the 
traveller  that  he  is  among  the  haunts  of  banditti,  per- 
haps at  that  very  moment  under  the  eye  of  some  lurk- 
ing bandolero.  Sometimes,  in  winding  through  the  nar- 
row valleys,  he  is  startled  by  a  hoarse  bellowing,  and 
beholds  above  him  on  some  green  fold  of  the  mountain  a 
herd  of  fierce  Andalusian  bulls,  destined  for  the  combat 
of  the  arena.  I  have  felt,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  an 
agreeable  horror  in  thus  contemplating,  near  at  hand, 
these  terrific  animals,  clothed  with  tremendous  strength, 
and  ranging  their  native  pastures  in  untamed  wildness, 


20  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

strangers  almost  to  the  face  of  man  :  they  know  no  one 
but  the  solitary  herdsman  who  attends  upon  them,  and 
even  he  at  times  dares  not  venture  to  approach  them. 
The  low  bellowing  of  these  bulls,  and  their  menacing  as^ 
pect  as  they  look  down  from  their  rocky  height,  give  ad- 
ditional wildness  to  the  savage  scenery. 

I  have  been  betrayed  unconsciously  into  a  longer  dis- 
quisition than  I  intended  on  the  general  features  of 
Spanish  travelling ;  but  there  is  a  romance  about  all  the 
recollections  of  the  Peninsula  dear  to  the  imagination. 

As  our  proposed  route  to  Granada  lay  through  moun- 
tainous regions,  where  the  roads  are  little  better  than 
mule-paths,  and  said  to  be  frequently  beset  by  robbers, 
we  took  due  travelling  precautions.  Forwarding  the 
most  valuable  part  of  our  luggage  a  day  or  two  in 
advance  by  the  arrieros,  we  retained  merely  clothing  and 
necessaries  for  the  journey  and  money  for  the  expenses  of 
the  road ;  with  a  little  surplus  of  hard  dollars  by  way  of 
robber  purse,  to  satisfy  the  gentlemen  of  the  road  should 
we  be  assailed.  Unlucky  is  the  too  wary  traveller  who, 
having  grudged  this  precaution,  falls  into  their  clutches 
empty-handed;  they  are  apt  to  give  him  a  sound  rib- 
roasting  for  cheating  them  out  of  their  dues.  "  Caballeros 
like  them  cannot  afford  to  scour  the  roads  and  risk  the 
gallows  for  nothing." 

A  couple  of  stout  steeds  were  provided  for  our  own 
mounting,  and  a  third  for  our  scanty  luggage  and  the 
conveyance  of  a  sturdy  Biscayan  lad,  about  twenty  years 


THE  JOURNEY.  21 

of  age,  who  was  to  be  our  guide,  our  groom,  our  valet, 
and  at  all  times  our  guard.  For  the  latter  office  he  was 
provided  with  a  formidable  trabuco  or  carbine,  with 
which  he  promised  to  defend  us  against  rateros  or  soli- 
tary foot-pads ;  but  as  to  powerful  bands,  like  that  of  the 
-'Sons  of  Ecija,"  he  confessed  they  were  quite  beyond  his 
prowess.  He  made  much  vainglorious  boast  about  his 
weapon  at  the  outset  of  the  journey ;  though,  to  the  dis- 
credit of  his  generalship,  it  was  suffered  to  hang  unloaded 
behind  his  saddle. 

According  to  our  stipulations,  the  man  from  whom  we 
hired  the  horses  was  to  be  at  the  expense  of  their  feed 
and  stabling  on  the  journey,  as  well  as  of  the  mainte- 
nance of  our  Biscayan  squire,  who  of  course  was  pro- 
vided with  funds  for  the  purpose  ;  we  took  care,  however, 
to  give  the  latter  a  private  hint,  that,  though  we  made  a 
close  bargain  with  his  master,  it  was  all  in  his  favor,  as, 
if  he  proved  a  good  man  and  true,  both  he  and  the  horses 
should  live  at  our  cost,  and  the  money  provided  for  their 
maintenance  remain  in  his  pocket.  This  unexpected  lar- 
gess, with  the  occasional  present  of  a  cigar,  won  his 
heart  completely.  He  was,  in  truth,  a  faithful,  cheery, 
kind-hearted  creature,  as  full  of  saws  and  proverbs  as 
that  miracle  of  squires,  the  renowned  Sancho  himself, 
whose  name,  by  the  by,  we  bestowed  upon  him,  and,  like 
a  true  Spaniard,  though  treated  by  us  with  companion- 
able familiarity,  he  never  for  a  moment,  in  his  utmost 
hilarity,  overstepped  the  bounds  of  respectful  decorum. 


22  THE  ALHAMBRA, 

Sncli  were  our  minor  preparations  for  the  journey,  but 
above  all  we  laid  in  an  ample  stock  of  good-humor,  and  a 
genuine  disposition  to  be  pleased ;  determining  to  travel 
in  true  contrabandista  style ;  taking  tilings  as  we  found 
them,  rough  or  smooth,  and  mingling  with  all  classes  and 
conditions  in  a  kind  of  vagabond  companionship.  It  is 
the  true  way  to  travel  in  Spain.  With  such  disposition 
and  determination,  what  a  country  is  it  for  a  traveller, 
where  the  most  miserable  inn  is  as  full  of  adventure  as  an 
enchanted  castle,  and  every  meal  is  in  itself  an  achieve- 
ment !  Let  others  repine  at  the  lack  of  turnpike  roads 
and  sumptuous  hotels,  and  all  the  elaborate  comforts  of  a 
country  cultivated  and  civilized  into  tameness  and  com- 
monplace ;  but  give  me  the  rude  mountain  scramble ; 
the  roving,  hap-hazard,  wayfaring;  the  half  wild,  yet 
frank  and  hospitable  manners,  which  impart  such  a  true 
game-flavor  to  dear  old  romantic  Spain  ! 

Thus  equipped  and  attended,  we  cantered  out  of  "Fair 
Seville  city  "  at  half-past  six  in  the  morning  of  a  bright 
May  day,  in  company  with  a  lady  and  gentleman  of  our 
acquaintance,  who  rode  a  few  miles  with  us,  in  the 
Spanish  mode  of  taking  leave.  Our  route  lay  through 
old  Alcala  de  Guadaira  (Alcala  on  the  river  Aira),  the 
benefactress  of  Seville,  that  supplies  it  with  bread  and 
water.  Here  live  the  bakers  who  furnish  Seville  with 
that  delicious  bread  for  which  it  is  renowned ;  here  are 
fabricated  those  roscas  well  known  by  the  well-merited 
appellation  of  pan  de  Bios  (bread  of  God) ;  with  which, 


THE  JOURNEY,  23 

by  the  way,  we  ordered  our  man,  Sancho,  to  stock  his 
alforjas  for  the  journey.  Well  has  this  beneficent  little 
city  been  denominated  the  "  Oven  of  Seville  "  ;  well  has 
it  been  called  Alcala  de  los  Panaderos  (Alcala  of  the 
bakers),  for  a  great  part  of  its  inhabitants  are  of  that 
handicraft,  and  the  highway  hence  to  Seville  is  con- 
stantly traversed  by  lines  of  mules  and  donkeys  laden 
with  great  panniers  of  loaves  and  roscas. 

I  have  said  Alcala  supplies  Seville  with  water.  Here 
are  great  tanks  or  reservoirs,  of  Eoman  and  Moorish  con- 
struction, whence  water  is  conveyed  to  Seville  by  noble 
aqueducts.  The  springs  of  Alcala  are  almost  as  much 
vaunted  as  its  ovens ;  and  to  the  lightness,  sweetness,  and 
purity  of  its  water  is  attributed  in  some  measure  the 
delicacy  of  its  bread. 

Here  we  halted  for  a  time,  at  the  ruins  of  the  old 
Moorish  castle,  a  favorite  resort  for  picnic  parties  from 
Seville,  where  we  had  passed  many  a  pleasant  hour. 
The  walls  are  of  great  extent,  pierced  with  loopholes; 
enclosing  a  huge  square  tower  or  keep,  with  the  remains 
of  masmoras,  or  subterranean  granaries.  The  Guadaira 
winds  its  stream  round  the  hill,  at  the  foot  of  these  ruins, 
whimpering  among  reeds,  rushes,  and  pond-lilies,  and 
overhung  with  rhododendron,  eglantine,  yellow  myrtle, 
and  a  profusion  of  wild  flowers  and  aromatic  shrubs; 
while  along  its  banks  are  groves  of  oranges,  citrons,  and 
pomegranates,  among  which  we  heard  the  early  note  of 
the  nightingale. 


24  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

A  picturesque  bridge  was  thrown  across  the  little 
river,  at  one  end  of  which  was  the  ancient  Moorish  mill 
of  the  castle,  defended  bj  a  tower  of  yellow  stone;  a 
fisherman's  net  hung  against  the  wall  to  dry,  and  hard  by 
in  the  river  was  his  boat ;  a  group  of  peasant  women  in 
bright-colored  dresses,  crossing  the  arched  bridge,  were 
reflected  in  the  placid  stream.  Altogether  it  was  an 
admirable  scene  for  a  landscape-painter. 

The  old  Moorish  mills,  so  often  found  on  secluded 
streams,  are  characteristic  objects  in  Spani.sh  landscape, 
and  suggestive  of  the  perilous  times  of  old.  They  are  of 
stone,  and  often  in  the  form  of  towers  with  loopholes  and 
battlements,  capable  of  defence  in  those  warlike  days 
when  the  country  on  both  sides  of  the  border  was  subject 
to  sudden  inroad  and  hasty  ravage,  and  when  men  had  to 
labor  with  their  weapons  at  hand,  and  some  place  of  tem- 
porary refuge. 

Our  next  halting-place  was  at  Gandul,  where  were  the 
remains  of  another  Moorish  castle,  with  its  ruined  tower, 
a  nestling-place  for  storks,  and  commanding  a  view  over 
a  vast  campina  or  fertile  plain,  with  the  mountains  of 
Eonda  in  the  distance.  These  castles  were  strong-holds 
to  protect  the  plains  from  the  talas  or  forays  to  which 
they  were  subject,  when  the  fields  of  corn  would  be  laid 
waste,  the  flocks  and  herds  swept  from  the  vast  pastures, 
and,  together  with  captive  peasantry,  hurried  off  in  long 
cavalgadas  across  the  borders. 

At  Gandul  we  found  a  tolerable  posada ;  the  good  folks 


THE  JOURNEY  25 

could  not  tell  us  what  time  of  day  it  was,  the  clock  only 
struck  once  in  the  day,  two  hours  after  noon ;  until  that 
time  it  was  guess-work.  We  guessed  it  was  full  time  to 
eat ;  so,  alighting,  we  ordered  a  repast.  While  that  was 
in  preparation,  we  visited  the  palace  once  the  residence 
of  the  Marquis  of  Gandul.  All  was  gone  to  decay ;  there 
were  but  two  or  three  rooms  habitable,  and  very  poorly 
furnished.  Yet  here  were  the  remains  of  grandeur:  a 
terrace,  where  fair  dames  and  gentle  cavaliers  may  once 
have  walked ;  a  fish-pond  and  ruined  garden,  with  grape- 
vines and  date-bearing  palm-trees.  Here  we  were  joined 
by  a  fat  curate,  who  gathered  a  bouquet  of  roses,  and  pre- 
sented it,  very  gallantly,  to  the  lady  who  accompanied  us. 

Below  the  palace  was  the  mill,  with  orange-trees  and 
aloes  in  front,  and  a  pretty  stream  of  pure  water.  We 
took  a  seat  in  the  shade ;  and  the  millers,  all  leaving 
their  work,  sat  down  and  smoked  with  us ;  for  the  Anda- 
lusians  are  always  ready  for  a  gossip.  They  were  wait- 
ing for  the  regular  visit  of  the  barber,  who  came  once  a 
week  to  put  all  their  chins  in  order.  He  arrived  shortly 
afterwards  :  a  lad  of  seventeen,  mounted  on  a  donkey, 
eager  to  display  his  new  alforjas  or  saddle-bags,  just 
bought  at  a  fair;  price  one  dollar,  to  be  paid  on  St. 
John's  day  (in  June),  by  which  time  he  trusted  to  have 
mown  beards  enough  to  put  him  in  funds. 

By  the  time  the  laconic  clock  of  the  castle  had  struck 
two  we  had  finished  our  dinner.  So,  taking  leave  of  our 
Seville  friends,  and  leaving  the  millers  still  under  the 


26  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

hands  of  the  barber,  we  set  off  on  our  ride  across  the 
campina.  It  was  one  of  those  vast  plains,  common  in 
Spain,  where  for  miles  and  miles  there  is  neither  house 
nor  tree.  Unlucky  the  traveller  who  has  to  traverse  it, 
exposed  as  we  were  to  heavy  and  repeated  showers  of 
rain.  There  is  no  escape  nor  shelter.  Our  only  protec- 
tion was  our  Spanish  cloaks,  which  nearly  covered  man 
and  horse,  but  grew  heavier  every  mile.  By  the  time  we 
had  lived  through  one  shower  we  would  see  another 
slowly  but  inevitably  approaching ;  fortunately  in  the 
interval  there  would  be  an  outbreak  of  bright,  warm,  An- 
dalusian  sunshine,  which  would  make  our  cloaks  send  up 
wreaths  of  steam,  but  which  partially  dried  them  before 
the  next  drenching. 

Shortly  after  sunset  we  arrived  at  Arahal,  a  little  town 
among  the  hills.  We  found  it  in  a  bustle  with  a  party  of 
miquelets,  who  were  patrolling  the  country  to  ferret  out 
robbers.  The  appearance  of  foreigners  like  ourselves 
was  an  unusual  circumstance  in  an  interior  country  town ; 
and  little  Spanish  towns  of  the  kind  are  easily  put  in  a 
state  of  gossip  and  wonderment  by  such  an  occurrence. 
Mine  host,  with  two  or  three  old  wiseacre  comrades  in 
brown  cloaks,  studied  our  passports  in  a  corner  of  the 
posada,  while  an  Alguazil  took  notes  by  the  dim  light  of 
a  lamp.  The  passports  were  in  foreign  languages  and 
perplexed  them,  but  our  Squire  Sancho  assisted  them  in 
their  studies,  and  magnified  our  importance  with  the 
grandiloquence   of  a   Spaniard.      In   the   meantime   the 


THE  JOURNEY.  27 

magnificent  distribution  of  a  few  cigars  had  won  the 
hearts  of  all  around  us  ;  in  a  little  while  the  whole  com- 
munity seemed  put  in  agitation  to  make  us  welcome. 
The  corregidor  himself  waited  upon  us,  and  a  great  rush- 
bottomed  arm-chair  was  ostentatiously  bolstered  into  our 
room  by  our  landlady,  for  the  accommodation  of  that  im- 
portant personage.  The  commander  of  the  patrol  took 
supper  with  us  :  a  lively,  talking,  laughing  Andaluz,  who 
had  made  a  campaign  in  South  America,  and  recounted 
his  exploits  in  love  and  war  with  much  pomp  of  phrase, 
vehemence  of  gesticulation,  and  mysterious  rolling  of  the 
eye.  He  told  us  that  he  had  a  list  of  all  the  robbers  in 
the  country,  and  meant  to  ferret  out  every  mother's  son 
of  them  ;  he  offered  us  at  the  same  time  some  of  his 
soldiers  as  an  escort.  "One  is  enough  to  protect  you, 
senors ;  the  robbers  know  me,  and  know  my  men;  the 
sight  of  one  is  enough  to  spread  terror  through  a  whole 
sierra."  "We  thanked  him  for  his  offer,  but  assured  him, 
in  his  own  strain,  that  with  the  protection  of  our  redoubt- 
able squire,  Sancho,  we  were  not  afraid  of  all  the  ladrones 
of  Andalusia. 

While  we  were  supping  with  our  drawcansir  friend,  we 
heard  the  notes  of  a  guitar,  and  the  click  of  castanets, 
and  presently  a  chorus  of  voices  singing  a  popular  air. 
In  fact,  mine  host  had  gathered  together  the  amateur 
singers  and  musicians,  and  the  rustic  belles  of  the  neigh- 
borhood, and,  on  going  forth,  the  court-yard  or  patio  of 
the  inn  presented  a  scene  of  true  Spanish  festivity.     We 


28  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

took  our  seats  with  mine  host  and  hostess  and  the  com- 
mander of  the  patrol,  under  an  archway  opening  into  the 
court ;  the  guitar  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  but  a  jovial 
shoemaker  was  the  Orpheus  of  the  place.  He  was  a 
pleasant-looking  fellow,  with  huge  black  whiskers  ;  his 
sleeves  were  rolled  up  to  his  elbows.  He  touched  the 
guitar  with  masterly  skill,  and  sang  a  liHle  amorous 
ditty  with  an  expressive  leer  at  the  women,  with  whom 
he  was  evidently  a  favorite.  He  afterwards  danced  a 
fandango  with  a  buxom  Andalusian  damsel,  to  the  great 
delight  of  the  spectators.  But  none  of  the  females  pres- 
ent could  compare  with  mine  host's  pretty  daughter, 
Pepita,  who  had  slipped  away  and  made  her  toilette  for 
the  occasion,  and  had  covered  her  head  with  roses  ;  and 
who  distinguished  herself  in  a  bolero  with  a  handsome 
young  dragoon.  We  ordered  our  host  to  let  wine  and 
refreshment  circulate  freely  among  the  company,  yet, 
though  there  was  a  motley  assembly  of  soldiers,  mule- 
teers, and  villagers,  no  one  exceeded  the  bounds  of  sober 
enjoyment.  The  scene  was  a  study  for  a  painter :  the 
picturesque  group  of  dancers,  the  troopers  in  their  half 
military  dresses,  the  peasantry  wrapped  in  their  brown 
cloaks ;  nor  must  I  omit  to  mention  the  old  meagre 
Alguazil,  in  a  short  black  cloak,  who  took  no  notice  of 
anything  going  on,  but  sat  in  a  corner  diligently  writing 
by  the  dim  light  of  a  huge  copper  lamp,  that  might  have 
figured  in  the  days  of  Don  Quixote. 

The   following   morning  was  bright  and  balmy,  as  a 


TEE  JOURNEY.  29 

May  morning  oaglit  to  be,  according  to  the  poets.  Leav- 
ing Arahal  at  seven  o'clock,  with  all  the  posada  at  the 
door  to  cheer  us  off,  we  pursued  our  way  through  a  fer- 
tile country,  covered  with  grain  and  beautifully  verdant ; 
but  which  in  summer,  when  the  harvest  is  over  and  the 
fields  parched  and  brown,  must  be  monotonous  and  lone- 
ly ;  for,  as  in  our  ride  of  yesterday,  there  were  neither 
houses  nor  people  to  be  seen.  The  latter  all  congregate 
in  villages  and  strong-holds  among  the  hills,  as  if  these 
fertile  plains  were  still  subject  to  the  ravages  of  the 
Moor. 

At  noon  we  came  to  where  there  was  a  group  of  trees, 
beside  a  brook  in  a  rich  meadow.  Here  we  alighted  to 
make  our  mid-day  meal.  It  was  really  a  luxurious  spot, 
among  wild  flowers  and  aromatic  herbs,  with  birds  sing- 
ing around  us.  Knowing  the  scanty  larders  of  Spanish 
inns,  and  the  houseless  tracts  we  might  have  to  traverse, 
we  had  taken  care  to  have  the  alforjas  of  our  squire  well 
stocked  with  cold  provisions,  and  his  bota,  or  leathern 
bottle,  which  might  hold  a  gallon,  filled  to  the  neck  with 
choice  Yaldepenas  wine.*  As  we  depended  more  upon 
these  for  our  well-being  than  even  his  trabuco,  we  ex- 


*  It  may  be  as  well  to  note  here,  that  the  alforjas  are  square  pockets  at 
each  end  of  a  long  cloth  about  a  foot  and  a  half  wide,  formed  by  turning 
up  its  extremities.  The  cloth  is  then  thrown  over  the  saddle,  and  the 
pockets  hang  on  each  side  like  saddle-bags.  It  is  an  Arab  invention. 
The  bota  is  a  leathern  bag  or  bottle,  of  portly  dimensions,  with  a  narrow 
neck.  It  is  also  Oriental.  Hence  the  scriptural  caution  which  perplexed 
me  in  my  boyhood,  not  to  put  new  wine  into  old  bottles. 


30  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

liorted  him  to  be  more  attentive  in  keeping  them  well 
charged  ;  and  I  must  do  him  the  justice  to  say  that  his 
namesake,  the  trencher-loving  Sancho  Panza,  was  never 
a  more  provident  purveyor.  Though  the  alforjas  and  the 
bota  were  freque}  tly  and  vigorously  assailed  through- 
out the  journey,  they  had  a  wonderful  power  of  reple- 
tion, our  vigilant  squire  sacking  everything  that  re- 
mained from  our  repasts  at  the  inns,  to  supply  these 
junketings  by  the  road-side,  which  were  his  delight. 

On  the  present  occasion  he  spread  quite  a  sumptuous 
variety  of  remnants  on  the  greensward  before  us,  graced 
with  an  excellent  ham  brought  from  Seville ;  then,  taking 
his  seat  at  a  little  distance,  he  solaced  himself  with  what 
remained  in  the  alforjas.  A  visit  or  two  to  the  bota  made 
him  as  merry  and  chirruping  as  a  grasshopper  filled  with 
dew.  On  my  comparing  his  contents  of  the  alforjas  to 
Sancho's  skimming  of  the  flesh-pots  at  the  wedding  of 
Cammacho,  I  found  he  was  well  versed  in  the  history  of 
Don  Quixote,  but,  like  many  of  the  common  people  of 
Spain,  firmly  believed  it  to  be  a  true  history. 

"All  that  happened  a  long  time  ago,  senor,"  said  he, 
with  an  inquiring  look. 

"A  very  long  time,"  I  replied. 

"I  dare  say  more  than  a  thousand  years," — still  look- 
ing dubiously. 

"I  dare  say  not  less." 

The  squire  was  satisfied.  Nothing  pleased  the  simple- 
hearted  varlet  more  than  my   comparing    him  to  the 


THE  JOVBNET.  31 

renowned  Sanclio  for  devotion  to  the  trencher ;  and  he 
called  himself  bj  no  other  name  throughout  the  journey. 

Our  repast  being  finished,  w«  spread  our  cloaks  on  the 
greensward  under  the  tree,  and  took  a  luxurious  siesta, 
in  the  Spanish  fashion.  The  clouding  up  of  the  weather, 
however,  warned  us  to  depart,  and  a  harsh  wind  sprang 
up  from  the  southeast.  Towards  five  o'clock  we  arrived 
at  Osuna,  a  town  of  fifteen  thousand  inhabitants,  situated 
on  the  side  of  a  hill,  with  a  church  and  a  ruined  castle. 
The  posada  was  outside  of  the  walls ;  it  had  a  cheerless 
look.  The  evening  being  cold,  the  inhabitants  were 
crowded  round  a  brasero  in  a  chimney-corner;  and  the 
hostess  was  a  dry  old  woman,  who  looked  like  a  mummy. 
Every  one  eyed  us  askance  as  we  entered,  as  Spaniards 
are  apt  to  regard  strangers ;  a  cheery,  respectful  saluta- 
tion on  our  part,  caballeroing  them  and  touching  our 
sombreros,  set  Spanish  pride  at  ease  ;  and  when  we  took 
our  seat  among  them,  lit  our  cigars,  and  passed  the  cigar- 
box  round  among  them,  our  victory  was  complete.  I 
have  never  known  a  Spaniard,  whatever  his  rank  or  con- 
dition, who  would  suffer  himself  to  be  outdone  in  cour- 
tesy ;  and  to  the  common  Spaniard  the  present  of  a  cigar 
(puro)  is  irresistible.  Care,  however,  must  be  taken 
never  to  offer  him  a  present  with  an  air  of  superiority 
and  condescension ;  he  is  too  much  of  a  caballero  to  re- 
ceive favors  at  the  cost  of  his  dignity. 

Leaving  Osuna  at  an  early  hour  the  next  morning,  we 
entered  the   sierra  or  range  of  mountains.      The    road 


32  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

wound  througli  picturesque  scenery,  but  lonely ;  and  a 
cross  here  and  there  by  the  roadside,  the  sign  of  a  mur- 
der, showed  that  we  were  now  coming  among  the  "  rob- 
ber haunts."  This  wild  and  intricate  country,  with  its 
silent  plains  and  valleys  intersected  by  mountains,  has 
ever  been  famous  for  banditti.  It  was  here  that  Omar 
Ibn  Hassan,  a  robber-chief  among  the  Moslems,  held 
ruthless  sway  in  the  ninth  century,  disputing  dominion 
even  with  the  caliphs  of  Cordova.  This  too  was  a  part 
of  the  regions  so  often  ravaged  during  the  reign  of  Fer- 
dinand and  Isabella  by  Ali  Atar,  the  old  .Moorish  al- 
cayde  of  Loxa,  father-in-law  of  Boabdil,  so  that  it  was 
called  Ali  Atar's  garden,  and  here  "Jose  Maria,"  famous 
in  Spanish  brigand  story,  had  his  favorite  lurking-places. 
In  the  course  of  the  day  we  passed  through  Fuente  la 
Piedra,  near  a  little  salt  lake  of  the  same  name,  a  beau- 
tiful sheet  of  water,  reflecting  like  a  mirror  the  distant 
mountains.  "We  now  came  in  sight  of  Antiquera,  that 
old  city  of  warlike  reputation,  lying  in  the  lap  of  the 
great  sierra  which  runs  through  Andalusia.  A  noble 
vega  spread  out  before  it,  a  picture  of  mild  fertility  set 
in  a  frame  of  rocky  mountains.  Crossing  a  gentle  river 
we  approached  the  city  between  hedges  and  gardens,  in 
which  nightingales  were  pouring  forth  their  evening 
song.  About  nightfall  we  arrived  at  the  gates.  Every- 
thing in  this  venerable  city  has  a  decidedly  Spanish 
stamp.  It  lies  too  much  out  of  the  frequented  track  of 
foreign  travel  to  have  its  old  usages  trampled  out.     Here 


THE  JOURNEY.  33 

I  observed  old  men  still  wearing  tlie  montero,  or  ancient 
hunting-cap,  once  common  thronghout  Spain ;  while  the 
young  men  wore  the  little  round-crowned  hat,  with  brim 
turned  up  all  round,  like  a  cup  turned  down  in  its  saucer ; 
while  the  brim  was  set  off  with  little  black  tufts  like  cock- 
ades. The  women,  too,  were  all  in  mantillas  and  bas- 
quinas.  The  fashions  of  Paris  had  not  reached  Anti- 
quera. 

Pursuing  ,our  course  through  a  spacious  street  we  put 
up  at  the  posada  of  San  Fernando.  As  Antiquera,  though 
a  considerable  city,  is,  as  I  observed,  somewhat  out  of 
the  track  of  travel,  I  had  anticipated  bad  quarters  and 
poor  fare  at  the  inn.  I  was  agreeably  disappointed, 
therefore,  by  a  supper-table  amply  supplied,  and  what 
were  still  more  acceptable,  good  clean  rooms  and  com- 
fortable beds.  Our  man  Sancho  felt  himself  as  well  off 
as  his  namesake  when  he  had  the  run  of  the  duke's 
kitchen,  and  let  me  know,  as  I  retired  for  the  night,  that 
it  had  been  a  proud  time  for  the  alforjas. 

Early  in  the  morning  (May  4th)  I  strolled  to  the  ruins 
of  the  old  Moorish  castle,  which  itself  had  been  reared 
on  the  ruins  of  a  Eoman  fortress.  Here,  taking  my  seat 
on  the  remains  of  a  crumbling  tower,  I  enjoyed  a  grand 
and  varied  landscape,  beautiful  in  itself,  and  full  of 
storied  and  romantic  associations ;  for  I  was  now  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  country  famous  for  the  chivalrous  con- 
tests between  Moor  and  Christian.  Below  me,  in  its  lap 
of  hills,  lay  the  old  warrior  city  so  often  mentioned  in 
3 


34  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

chronicle  and  ballad.  Out  of  yon  gate  and  down  yon  hill 
paraded  the  band  of  Spanish  cavaliers,  of  highest  rank 
and  bravest  bearing,  to  make  that  foray  during  the  war 
and  conquest  of  Granada,  which  ended  in  the  lamentable 
massacre  among  the  mountains  of  Malaga,  and  laid  all 
Andalusia  in  mourning.  Beyond  spread  out  the  vega, 
covered  with  gardens  and  orchards  and  fields  of  grain 
and  enamelled  meadows,  inferior  only  to  the  famous 
vega  of  Granada.  To  the  right  the  Rock  of  the  Lovers 
stretched  like  a  cragged  promontory  into  the  plain, 
whence  the  daughter  of  the  Moorish  alcayde  and  her 
lover,  when  closely  pursued,  threw  themselves  in  despair. 

The  matin  peal  from  church  and  convent  below  me 
rang  sweetly  in  the  morning  air,  as  I  descended.  The 
market-place  was  beginning  to  throng  with  the  populace, 
who  traffic  in  the  abundant  produce  of  the  vega ;  for  this 
is  the  mart  of  an  agricultural  region.  In  the  market- 
place were  abundance  of  freshly  plucked  roses  for  sale ; 
for  not  a  dame  or  damsel  of  Andalusia  thinks  her  gala 
dress  complete  without  a  rose  shining  like  a  gem  among 
her  raven  tresses. 

On  returning  to  the  inn  I  found  our  man  Sancho  in 
high  gossip  with  the  landlord  and  two  or  three  of  his 
hangers-on.  He  had  just  been  telling  some  marvellous 
story  about  Seville,  which  mine  host  seemed  piqued  to 
match  with  one  equally  marvellous  about  Antiquera. 
There  was  once  a  fountain,  he  said,  in  one  of  the  public 
squares  called  llfuente  dd  toro,  (the  fountain  of  the  bull,) 


THE  JOURNEY.  35 

because  the  water  gushed  from  the  mouth  of  a  bull's 
head,  carved  of  stone.  Underneath  the  head  was  in- 
scribed,— 

En  f  rente  del  toro 

Se  hallen  tesoro. 

(In  front  of  the  bull  there  is  treasure.)  Many  digged  in 
front  of  the  fountain,  but  lost  their  labor  and  found  no 
money.  At  last  one  knowing  fellow  construed  the  motto 
a  different  way.  It  is  in  the  forehead  (frente)  of  the  bull 
that  the  treasure  is  to  be  found,  said  he  to  himself,  and  I 
am  the  man  to  find  it.  Accordingly  he  came,  late  at 
night,  with  a  mallet,  and  knocked  the  head  to  pieces; 
and  what  do  you  think  he  found  ? 

"Plenty  of  gold  and  diamonds!"  cried  Sancho,  eagerly. 
•  "He  found  nothing,"  rejoined  mine  host,  dryly,  "and 
he  ruined  the  fountain." 

Here  a  great  laugh  was  set  up  by  the  landlord's 
hangers-on ;  who  considered  Sancho  completely  taken  in 
by  what  I  presume  was  one  of  mine  host's  standing 
jokes. 

Leaving  Antiquera  at  eight  o'clock,  we  had  a  delight- 
ful ride  along  the  little  river,  and  by  gardens  and  or- 
chards fragrant  with  the  odors  of  spring  and  vocal  with 
the  nightingale.  Our  road  passed  round  the  Eock  of 
the  Lovers  (el  penon  de  los  enamorados),  which  rose 
in  a  precipice  above  us.  In  the  course  of  the  morning 
we  passed  through  Archidona,  situated  in  the  breast  of 
a  high   hill,   with   a   three-pointed    mountain  towering 


36  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

above  it,  and  the  ruins  of  a  Moorish  fortress.  It  was  a 
great  toil  to  ascend  a  steep  stony  street  leading  up  into 
the  city,  although  it  bore  the  encouraging  name  of  Calle 
Real  del  Llano  '^the  royal  street  of  the  plain),  but  it  was 
still  a  greater  toil  to  descend  from  this  mountain  city  on 
the  other  side. 

At  noon  we  halted  in  sight  of  Archidona,  in  a  pleasant 
little  meadow  among  hills  covered  with  olive-trees.  Our 
cloaks  were  spread  on  the  grass,  under  an  elm  by  the 
side  of  a  bubbling  rivulet ;  our  horses  were  tethered 
where  they  might  crop  the  herbage,  and  Sancho  was 
told  to  produce  his  alforjas.  He  had  been  unusually 
silent  this  morning  ever  since  the  laugh  raised  at  his 
expense,  but  now  his  countenance  brightened,  and  he 
produced  his  alforjas  with  an  air  of  triumph.  They  con- 
tained the  contributions  of  four  days'  journeying,  but 
had  been  signally  enriched  by  the  foraging  of  the  previ- 
ous evening  in  the  plenteous  inn  at  Antiquera  ;  and  this 
seemed  to  furnish  him  with  a  set-off  to  the  banter  of 
mine  host. 

En  f  rente  del  toro 
Se  hallen  tesoro 

would  he  exclaim,  with  a  chuckling  laugh,  as  he  drew 
forth  the  heterogeneous  contents  one  by  one,  in  a  series 
which  seemed  to  have  no  end.  First  came  forth  a  shoul- 
der of  roasted  kid,  very  little  the  worse  for  wear ;  then 
an  entire  partridge  ;  then  a  great  morsel  of  salted  codfish 
wrapped  in  paper  ;  then  the  residue  of  a  ham  ;  then  the 


THE  JOURNEY.  37 

half  of  a  pullet,  together  with  several  rolls  of  bread,  and 
a  rabble  rout  of  oranges,  figs,  raisins,  and  walnuts.  His 
bota  also  had  been  recruited  with  some  excellent  wine  of 
Malaga.  At  every  fresh  apparition  from  his  larder,  he 
would  enjoy  our  ludicrous  surprise,  throwing  himself 
back  on  the  grass,  shouting  with  laughter,  and  exclaim- 
ing, "  Frente  del  toro  ! — f rente  del  toro  !  Ah,  senors, 
they  thought  Sancho  a  simpleton  at  Antiquera ;  but 
Sancho  knew  where  to  find  the  tesoro." 

While  we  were  diverting  ourselves  with  his  simple 
drollery,  a  solitary  beggar  approached,  who  had  almost 
the  look  of  a  pilgrim.  He  had  a  venerable  gray  beard, 
and  was  evidently  very  old,  supporting  himself  on  a  staff, 
yet  age  had  not  bowed  him  down  ;  he  was  tall  and  erect, 
and  had  the  wreck  of  a  fine  form.  He  wore  a  round  An- 
dalusian  hat,  a  sheep-skin  jacket,  and  leathern  breeches, 
gaiters,  and  sandals.  His  dress,  though  old  and  patched, 
was  decent,  his  demeanor  manly,  and  he  addressed  us 
with  the  grave  courtesy  that  is  to  be  remarked  in  the 
lowest  Spaniard.  "We  were  in  a  favorable  mood  for  such 
a  visitor ;  and  in  a  freak  of  capricious  charity  gave  him 
some  silver,  a  loaf  of  fine  wheaten  bread,  and  a  goblet  of 
our  choice  wine  of  Malaga.  He  received  them  thank- 
fully, but  without  any  grovelling  tribute  of  gratitude. 
Tasting  the  wine,  he  held  it  up  to  the  light,  with  a  slight 
beam  of  surprise  in  his  eye  ;  then  quaffing  it  off  at  a 
draught,  "  It  is  many  years,"  said  he,  "  since  I  have 
tasted  such  wine.     It  is  a  cordial  to  an  old  man's  heart." 


38  THE  ALHAMBBA, 

Then,  looking  at  the  beautiful  wheaten  loaf,  "  hendito  sea 
tal pan  I  "  "blessed  be  such  bread!  "  So  saying,  he  put 
it  in  his  wallet.  We  urged  him  to  eat  it  on  the  spot. 
"No,  senors,"  replied  he,  "the  wine  I  had  either  to 
drink  or  leave  ;  but  the  bread  I  may  take  home  to  share 
with  my  family." 

Our  man  Sancho  sought  our  eye,  and  reading  permis- 
sion there,  gave  the  old  man  some  of  the  ample  frag- 
ments of  our  repast,  on  condition,  however,  that  he 
should  sit  down  and  make  a  meal. 

He  accordingly  took  his  seat  at  some  little  distance 
from  us,  and  began  to  eat  slowly,  and  with  a  sobriety 
and  decorum  that  would  have  become  a  hidalgo.  There 
was  altogether  a  measured  manner  and  a  quiet  self-pos- 
session about  the  old  man,  that  made  me  think  that  he 
had  seen  better  days :  his  language,  too,  though  simple, 
had  occasionally  something  picturesque  and  almost  poet- 
ical in  the  phraseology.  I  set  him  down  for  some  broken- 
down  cavalier.  I  was  mistaken  ;  it  was  nothing  but  the 
innate  courtesy  of  a  Spaniard,  and  the  poetical  turn  of 
thought  and  language  often  to  be  found  in  the  lowest 
classes  of  this  clear-witted  people.  For  fifty  years,  he 
told  us,  he  had  been  a  shepherd,  but  now  he  was  out  of 
employ  and  destitute.  "  When  I  was  a  young  man,"  said 
he,  "nothing  could. harm  or  trouble  me;  I  was  always 
well,  always  gay ;  but  now  I  am  seventy-nine  years  of 
age,  and  a  beggar,  and  my  heart  begins  to  fail  me." 

Still  he  was  not  a  regular  mendicant :  it  was  not  until 


THE  JOURNEY.  39 

recently  that  want  liad  driven  him  to  this  degradation ; 
and  he  gave  a  touching  picture  of  the  struggle  between 
hunger  and  pride,  when  abject  destitution  first  came  upon 
him.  He  was  returning  from  Malaga  without  money  ;  he 
had  not  tasted  food  for  some  time,  and  was  crossing  one 
of  the  great  plains  of  Spain,  where  there  were  but  few 
habitations.  When  almost  dead  with  hunger,  he  applied 
at  the  door  of  a  venta  or  country  inn.  "  Perdon  usted  por 
Bios  liermano  !  "  (Excuse  us,  brother,  for  God's  sake  !) 
was  the  reply — the  usual  mode  in  Spain  of  refusing  a 
beggar.  "  I  turned  away,"  said  he,  "  with  shame  greater 
than  my  hunger,  for  my  heart  was  yet  too  proud.  I 
came  to  a  river  with  high  banks,  and  deep,  rapid  current, 
and  felt  tempted  to  throw  myself  in  :  *  What  should  such 
an  old,  worthless,  wretched  man  as  I  live  for  ? '  But 
when  I  was  on  the  brink  of  the  current,  I  thought  on  the 
blessed  Virgin,  and  turned  away.  I  travelled  on  until  I 
saw  a  country-seat  at  a  little  distance  from  the  road,  and 
entered  the  outer  gate  of  the  court-yard.  The  door  was 
shut,  but  there  were  two  young  senoras  at  a  window.  I 
approached  and  begged  ; — *  Perdon  usted  por  Dios  lier- 
mano I '  —  and  the  window  closed.  I  crept  out  of  the 
court-yard,  but  hunger  overcame  me,  and  my  heart  gave 
way :  I  thought  my  hour  at  hand,  so  I  laid  myself  down 
at  the  gate,  commended  myself  to  the  Holy  Yirgin,  and 
covered  my  head  to  die.  In  a  little  while  afterwards  the 
master  of  the  house  came  home  :  seeing  me  lying  at  his 
gate,  he  uncovered  my  head,  had  pity  on  my  gray  hairs, 


40  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

took  me  into  liis  house,  and  gave  me  food.  So,  senors, 
jou  see  tliat  one  should  always  put  confidence  in  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Virgin." 

The  old  man  was  on  his  way  to  his  native  place,  Archi- 
dona,  which  was  in  full  view  on  its  steep  and  rugged 
mountain.  He  pointed  to  the  ruins  of  its  castle.  "  That 
castle,"  he  said,  "was  inhabited  by  a  Moorish  king  at  the 
time  of  the  w^ars  of  Granada.  Queen  Isabella  invaded  it 
with  a  great  army ;  but  the  king  looked  down  from  his 
castle  among  the  clouds,  and  laughed  her  to  scorn !  Upon 
this  the  Yirgin  appeared  to  the  queen,  and  guided  her 
and  her  army  up  a  mysterious  path  in  the  mountains, 
which  had  never  before  been  known.  When  the  Moor 
saw  her  coming,  he  was  astonished,  and  springing  with 
his  horse  from  a  precipice,  was  dashed  to  pieces!  The 
marks  of  his  horse's  hoofs,"  said  the  old  man,  "are  to  be 
seen  in  the  margin  of  the  rock  to  this  day.  And  see, 
senors,  yonder  is  the  road  by  which  the  queen  and  her 
army  mounted:  you  see  it  like  a  ribbon  up  the  moun- 
tain's side ;  but  the  miracle  is,  that,  though  it  can  be  seen 
at  a  distance,  when  you  come  near  it  disappears ! " 

The  ideal  road  to  which  he  pointed  was  undoubtedly  a 
sandy  ravine  of  the  mountain,  which  looked  narrow  and 
defined  at  a  distance,  but  became  broad  and  indistinct  on 
an  approach. 

As  the  old  man's  heart  warmed  with  wine  and  wassail, 
he  went  on  to  tell  us  a  story  of  the  buried  treasure  left 
under  the  castle  by  the  Moorish  king.     His  own  house 


THE  JOURNEY.  41 

was  next  to  tlie  foundations  of  the  castle.  The  curate  and 
notary  dreamed  three  times  of  the  treasure,  and  went  to 
work  at  the  place  pointed  out  in  their  dreams.  His  own 
son-in-law  heard  the  sound  of  their  pickaxes  and  spades 
at  night.  What  the j  found,  nobody  knows ;  they  became 
suddenly  rich,  but  kept  their  own  secret.  Thus  the  old 
man  had  once  been  next  door  to  fortune,  but  was  doomed 
never  to  get  under  the  same  roof. 

I  have  remarked  that  the  stories  of  treasure  buried  by 
the  Moors,  so  popular  throughout  Spain,  are  most  current 
among  the  poorest  people.  Kind  nature  consoles  with 
shadows  for  the  lack  of  substantial.  The  thirsty  man 
dreams  of  fountains  and  running  streams;  the  hungry 
man  of  banquets ;  and  the  poor  man  of  heaps  of  hidden 
gold :  nothing  certainly  is  more  opulent  than  the  imagi- 
nation of  a  beggar. 

Our  afternoon's  ride  took  us  through  a  steep  and 
rugged  defile  of  the  mountains,  called  Puerte  del  Eey, 
the  Pass  of  the  King ;  being  one  of  the  great  passes  into 
the  territories  of  Granada,  and  the  one  by  which  king 
Ferdinand  conducted  his  army.  Towards  sunset  the 
road,  winding  round  a  hill,  brought  us  in  sight  of  the 
famous  little  frontier  city  of  Loxa,  which  repulsed  Ferdi- 
nand from  its  walls.  Its  Arabic  name  implies  guardian, 
and  such  it  was  to  the  vega  of  Granada,  being  one  of  its 
advanced  guards.  It  was  the  strong-hold  of  that  fiery 
veteran,  old  Ali  Atar,  father-in-law  of  Boabdil ;  and  here 
it  was  that  the  latter  collected  his  troops,  and  sallied 


4:2  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

forth  on  that  disastrous  foray  which  ended  in  the  death 
of  the  oki  alcayde  and  his  own  captivity.  From  its  com- 
manding position  at  the  gate,  as  it  were,  of  this  moun- 
tain-pass, Loxa  has  not  unaptly  been  termed  the  key  of 
Granada.  It  is  wildly  picturesque ;  built  along  the  face 
of  an  arid  mountain.  The  ruins  of  a  Moorish  alcazar  or 
citadel  crown  a  rocky  mound  which  rises  out  of  the 
centre  of  the  town.  The  river  Xenil  washes  its  base, 
winding  among  rocks,  and  groves,  and  gardens,  and 
meadows,  and  crossed  by  a  Moorish  bridge.  Above  the 
city  all  is  savage  and  sterile,  below  is  the  richest  vegeta- 
tion and  the  freshest  verdure.  A  similar  contrast  is 
presented  by  the  river :  above  the  bridge  it  is  placid  and 
grassy,  reflecting  groves  and  gardens ;  below  it  is  rapid, 
noisy,  and  tumultuous.  The  Sierra  Nevada,  the  royal 
mountains  of  Granada,  crowned  with  perpetual  snow, 
form  the  distant  boundary  to  this  varied  landscape,  one 
of  the  most  characteristic  of  romantic  Spain. 

Alighting  at  the  entrance  of  the  city,  we  gave  our 
horses  to  Sancho  to  lead  them  to  the  inn,  while  we 
strolled  about  to  enjoy  the  singular  beauty  of  the  envi- 
rons. As  we  crossed  the  bridge  to  a  fine  alameda,  or 
public  walk,  the  bells  tolled  the  hour  of  orison.  At  the 
sound  the  wayfarers,  whether  on  business  or  pleasure, 
paused,  took  off  their  hats,  crossed  themselves,  and  re- 
peated their  evening  prayer  :  a  pious  custom  still  rigidly 
observed  in  retired  parts  of  Spain.  Altogether  it  was  a 
solemn  and  beautiful  evening  scene,  and  we  wandered  on 


THE  JOtrHNEt.  43 

as  the  evening  gradually  closed,  and  the  new  tnoon  began 
to  glitter  between  the  high  elms  of  the  alameda.  We 
were  roused  from  this  quiet  state  of  enjoyment  by  the 
voice  of  our  trusty  squire  hailing  us  from  a  distance. 
He  came  up  to  us,  out  of  breath.  "  Ah,  sehores,"  cried 
he,  "  el  pobre  Sancho  no  es  nada  sin  Don  Quixote."  (Ah, 
sehors,  poor  Sancho  is  nothing  without  Don  Quixote.) 
He  had  been  alarmed  at  our  not  coming  to  the  inn ;  Loxa 
was  such  a  wild  mountain  place,  full  of  contrabandistas, 
enchanters,  and  infiernos  ;  he  did  not  well  know  what 
might  have  happened,  and  set  out  to  seek  us,  inquiring 
after  us  of  every  person  he  met,  until  he  traced  us  across 
the  bridge,  and,  to  his  great  joy,  caught  sight  of  us  stroll- 
ing in  the  alameda. 

The  inn  to  which  he  conducted  us  was  called  the 
Corona,  or  Crown,  and  we  found  it  quite  in  keeping  with 
the  character  of  the  place,  the  inhabitants  of  which  seem 
still  to  retain  the  bold,  fiery  spirit  of  the  olden  time. 
The  hostess  was  a  young  and  handsome  Andalusian 
widow,  whose  trim  basquina  of  black  silk,  fringed  with 
bugles,  set  off  the  play  of  a  graceful  form  and  round 
pliant  limbs.  Her  step  was  firm  and  elastic ;  her  dark 
eye  was  full  of  fire ;  and  the  coquetry  of  her  air,  and 
varied  ornaments  of  her  person,  showed  that  she  was  ac- 
customed to  be  admired. 

She  was  well  matched  by  a  brother,  nearly  about  her 
own  age  ;  they  were  perfect  models  of  the  Andalusian 
Majo  and  Maja.     He  was  tall,  vigorous,  and  well-formed, 


44  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

with  a  clear  olive  complexion,  a  dark  beaming  eye,  and 
curling  chestnut  whiskers  that  met  under  his  chin.  He 
was  gallantly  dressed  in  a  short  green  velvet  jacket, 
fitted  to  his  shape,  profusely  decorated  with  silver  but- 
tons, with  a  white  handkerchief  in  each  pocket.  He  had 
breeches  of  the  same,  with  rows  of  buttons  from  the  hips 
to  the  knees ;  a  pink  silk  handkerchief  round  his  neck, 
gathered  through  a  ring,  on  the  bosom  of  a  neatly  plaited 
shirt ;  a  sash  round  the  waist  to  match  ;  bottinas,  or 
spatterdashes,  of  the  finest  russet  leather,  elegantly 
worked,  and  open  at  the  calf  to  show  his  stocking  ;  and 
russet  shoes,  setting  off  a  well-shaped  foot. 

As  he  was  standing  at  the  door,  a  horseman  rode  up 
and  entered  into  low  and  earnest  conversation  with  him. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  similar  style,  and  almost  with  equal 
finery ;  a  man  about  thirty,  square-built,  with  strong 
Koman  features,  handsome,  though  slightly  pitted  with 
the  small-pox ;  with  a  free,  bold,  and  somewhat  daring 
air.  His  powerful  black  horse  was  decorated  with  tas- 
sels and  fanciful  trappings,  and  a  couple  of  broad- 
mouthed  blunderbusses  hung  behind  the  saddle.  He 
had  the  air  of  one  of  those  contrabandistas  I  have  seen 
in  the  mountains  of  Ronda,  and  evidently  had  a  good 
understanding  with  the  brother  of  mine  hostess ;  nay,  if 
I  mistake  not,  he  was  a  favored  admirer  of  the  widow. 
In  fact,  the  whole  inn  and  its  inmates  had  something  of 
a  contra bandista  aspect,  and  a  blunderbuss  stood  in  a 
corner  beside  the  guitar.     The  horseman  I  have   men- 


THE  JOURNEY,  45 

tioned  passed  his  evening  in  the  posada,  and  sang  sev- 
eral bold  mountain  romances  with  great  spirit.  As  we 
were  at  supper,  two  poor  Asturians  put  in,  in  distress, 
begging  food  and  a  night's  lodging.  They  had  been 
waylaid  by  robbers  as  they  came  from  a  fair  among  the 
mountains,  robbed  of  a  horse  which  carried  ail  their 
stock  in  trade,  stripped  of  their  money,  and  most  of  their 
apparel,  beaten  for  having  offered  resistance,  and  left 
almost  naked  in  the  road.  My  companion,  with  a  prompt 
generosity  natural  to  him,  ordered  them  a  supper  and  a 
bed,  and  gave  them  a  sum  of  money  to  help  them  for- 
ward towards  their  home. 

As  the  evening  advanced,  the  dramatis  personoe  thick- 
ened. A  large  man,  about  sixty  years  of  age,  of  power- 
ful frame,  came  strolling  in,  to  gossip  with  mine  hostess. 
He  was  dressed  in  the  ordinary  Andalusian  costume, 
but  had  a  huge  sabre  tucked  under  his  arm ;  wore  large 
moustaches,  and  had  something  of  a  lofty  swaggering  air. 
Every  one  seemed  to  regard  him  with  great  deference. 

Our  man  Sancho  whispered  to  us  that  he  was  Don 
"Ventura  Eodriguez,  the  hero  and  champion  of  Loxa, 
famous  for  his  prowess  and  the  strength  of  his  arm.  In 
the  time  of  the  French  invasion  he  surprised  six  troopers 
who  were  asleep ;  he  first  secured  their  horses,  then 
attacked  them  with  his  sabre,  killed  some,  and  took  the 
rest  prisoners.  For  this  exploit  the  king  allows  him  a 
peseta  (the  fifth  of  a  duro,  or  dollar)  per  day,  and  has 
dignified  him  with  the  titlo  of  Don. 


46  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

I  was  amused  to  beliokl  liis  swelling  language  and 
demeanor.  He  was  evidently  a  thorough  Andalusian, 
boastful  as  brave.  His  sabre  was  always  in  his  hand  or 
under  his  arm.  He  carries  it  always  about  with  him 
as  a  child  does  its  doll,  calls  it  his  Santa  Teresa,  and 
says,  "  When  I  draw  it,  the  earth  trembles  "  (tiembla  la 
tierra). 

I  sat  until  a  late  hour  listening  to  the  varied  themes  of 
this  motley  group,  who  mingled  together  with  the  un- 
reserve of  a  Spanish  posada.  We  had  contrabandista 
songs,  stories  of  robbers,  guerrilla  exploits,  and  Moorish 
legends.  The  last  were  from  our  handsome  landlady, 
who  gave  a  poetical  account  of  the  Infiernos,  or  infernal 
regions  of  Loxa, — dark  caverns,  in  which  subterranean 
streams  and  waterfalls  make  a  mysterious  sound.  The 
common  people  say  that  there  are  money-coiners  shut 
up  there  from  the  time  of  the  Moors ;  and  that  the 
Moorish  kings  kept  their  treasures  in  those  caverns. 

I  retired  to  bed  with  my  imagination  excited  by  all 
that  I  had  seen  and  heard  in  this  old  warrior  city. 
Scarce  had  I  fallen  asleep  when  I  was  aroused  by  a  hor- 
rid din  and  uproar,  that  might  have  confounded  the  hero 
of  La  Mancha  himself,  whose  experience  of  Spanish  inns 
was  a  continual  uproar.  It  seemed  for  a  moment  as  if 
the  Moors  were  once  more  breaking  into  the  town ;  or 
the  infiernos  of  which  mine  hostess  talked  had  broken 
loose.  I  sallied  forth,  half  dressed,  to  reconnoitre.  It 
was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  charivari  to  celebrate 


THE  JOURNEY.  47 

the  nuptials  of  an  old  man  with  a  buxom  damsel.  Wish- 
ing him  joy  of  his  bride  and  his  serenade,  I  returned  to 
mj  more  quiet  bed,  and  slept  soundly  until  morning. 

While  dressing,  I  amused  myself  in  reconnoitring  the 
populace  from  my  window.  There  were  groups  of  fine- 
looking  young  men  in  the  trim  fanciful  Andalusian  cos- 
tume, with  brown  cloaks,  thrown  about  them  in  true 
Spanish  style,  which  cannot  be  imitated,  and  little  round 
majo  hats  stuck  on  with  a  peculiar  knowing  air.  They 
had  the  same  galliard  look  which  I  have  remarked  among 
the  dandy  mountaineers  of  Eonda.  Indeed,  all  this  part 
of  Andalusia  abounds  with  such  game-looking  charac- 
ters. They  loiter  about  the  towns  and  villages  ;  seem 
to  have  plenty  of  time  and  plenty  of  money ;  "  horse 
to  ride  and  weapon  to  wear."  Great  gossips,  great 
smokers,  apt  at  touching  the  guitar,  singing  couplets 
to  their  maja  belles,  and  famous  dancers  of  the  bolero. 
Throughout  all  Spain  the  men,  however  poor,  have  a 
gentlemanlike  abundance  of  leisure ;  seeming  to  consider 
it  the  attribute  of  a  true  cavaliero  never  to  be  in  a 
hurry ;  but  the  Andalusians  are  gay  as  well  as  leisurely, 
and  have  none  of  the  squalid  accompaniments  of  idle- 
ness. The  adventurous  contraband  trade  which  prevails 
throughout  these  mountain  regions,  and  along  the  mari- 
time borders  of  Andalusia,  is  doubtless  at  the  bottom  of 
this  galliard  character. 

In  contrast  to  the  costume  of  these  groups  was  that  of 
two  long-legged  Yalencians  conducting  a  donkey,  laden 


4S  THE  ALEAMBBA. 

with  articles  of  merchandise  ;  their  musket  slung  cross- 
wise  over  his  back,  ready  for  action.  They  wore  round 
jackets  (jalecos),  wide  linen  bragas  or  drawers  scarce 
reaching  to  the  knees  and  looking  like  kilts,  red  fajas  or 
sashes  swathed  tightly  round  their  waists,  sandals  of 
espartal  or  bass  weed,  colored  kerchiefs  round  their 
heads  somewhat  in  the  style  of  turbans,  but  leaving  the 
top  of  the  head  uncovered ;  in  short,  their  whole  appear- 
ance having  much  of  the  traditional  Moorish  stamp. 

On  leaving  Loxa  we  were  joined  by  a  cavalier,  well 
mounted  and  well  armed,  and  followed  on  foot  by  an  es- 
copetero  or  musketeer.  He  saluted  us  courteously,  and 
soon  let  us  into  his  quality.  He  was  chief  of  the  cus- 
toms, or  rather,  I  should  suppose,  chief  of  an  armed 
company  whose  business  it  is  to  patrol  the  roads  and 
look  out  for  contrabandistas.  The  escopetero  was  one  of 
his  guards.  In  the  course  of  our  morning's  ride  I  drew 
from  him  some  particulars  concerning  the  smugglers, 
who  have  risen  to  be  a  kind  of  mongrel  chivalry  in 
Spain.  They  come  into  Andalusia,  he  said,  from  various 
parts,  but  especially  from  La  Mancha ;  sometimes  to  re- 
ceive goods,  to  be  smuggled  on  an  appointed  night  across 
the  line  at  the  plaza  or  strand  of  Gibraltar ;  sometimes 
to  meet  a  vessel,  which  is  to  hover  on  a  given  night  off  a 
certain  part  of  the  coast.  They  keep  together  and  travel 
in  the  night.  In  the  daytime  they  lie  quiet  in  barran- 
cos,  gullies  of  the  mountains,  or  lonely  farm-houses ; 
where  they  are  generally  well  received,  as  they  make  the 


THE  JOURNEY.  49 

family  liberal  presents  of  their  smuggled  wares.  Indeed, 
mucli  of  tlie  finery  and  trinkets  worn  by  the  wives  and 
daughters  of  the  mountain  hamlets  and  farm-houses  are 
presents  from  the  gay  and  open-handed  contrabandistas. 
Arrived  at  the  part  of  the  coast  where  a  vessel  is  to 
meet  them,  they  look  out  at  night  from  some  rocky  point 
or  headland.  If  they  descry  a  sail  near  the  shore  they 
make  a  concerted  signal ;  sometimes  it  consists  in  sud- 
denly displaying  a  lantern  three  times  from  beneath  the 
folds  of  the  cloak.  If  the  signal  is  answered,  they  de- 
scend to  the  shore  and  prepare  for  quick  work.  The 
vessel  runs  close  in  ;  all  her  boats  are  busy  landing  the 
smuggled  goods,  made  up  into  snug  packages  for  trans- 
portation on  horseback.  These  are  hastily  thrown  on 
the  beach,  as  hastily  gathered  up  and  packed  on  the 
horses,  and  then  the  contrabandistas  clatter  off  to  the 
mountains.  They  travel  by  the  roughest,  wildest,  and 
most  solitary  roads,  where  it  is  almost  fruitless  to  pur- 
sue them.  The  custom-house  guards  do  not  attempt  it : 
they  take  a  different  course.  When  they  hear  of  one  of 
these  bands  returning  full  freighted  through  the  moun- 
tains, they  go  out  in  force,  sometimes  twelve  infantry 
and  eight  horsemen,  and  take  their  station  where  the 
mountain  defile  opens  into  the  plain.  The  infantry,  who 
lie  in  ambush  some  distance  within  the  defile,  suffer 
the  band  to  pass,  then  rise  and  fire  upon  them.  The 
contrabandistas  dash  forward,  but  are  met  in  front  by 
the  horsemen.  A  wild  skirmish  ensues.  The  contra- 
4 


50  THE  ALHAMBRA 

bandistaSj  if  hard  pressed,  become  desperate.  Some 
dismount,  use  their  horses  as  breastworks,  and  fire  over 
their  backs  ;  others  cut  the  cords,  let  tlie  packs  fall  off 
to  delay  the  enemy,  and  endeavor  to  escape  with  their 
steeds.  Some  get  off  in  this  way  with  the  loss  of  their 
packages ;  some  are  taken,  horses,  packages,  and  all ; 
others  abandon  everything,  and  make  their  escape  by 
scrambling  up  the  mountains.  "And  then,"  cried  San- 
cho,  who  had  been  listening  with  a  greedy  ear,  "  se  hacen 
ladrones  legitimos,''  —  and  then  they  become  legitimate 
robbers. 

I  could  not  help  laughing  at  Sancho's  idea  of  a  legiti- 
mate calling  of  the  kind;  but  the  chief  of  customs  told 
me  it  was  really  the  case  that  the  smugglers,  when  thus 
reduced  to  extremity,  thought  they  had  a  kind  of  right 
to  take  the  road,  and  lay  travellers  under  contribution, 
until  they  had  collected  funds  enough  to  mount  and 
-quip  themselves  in  contrabandista  style. 

Towards  noon  our  wayfaring  companion  took  leave  of 
-iS  and  turned  up  a  steep  defile,  followed  by  his  esco- 
petero ;  and  shortly  afterwards  we  emerged  from  the 
mountains,  and  entered  upon  the  far-famed  Vega  of 
Granada. 

Our  last  mid-day's  repast  was  taken  under  a  grove  of 
olive-trees  on  the  border  of  a  rivulet.  "We  were  in  a 
classical  neighborhood;  for  not  far  off  were  the  groves 
and  orchards  of  the  Soto  de  Eoma.  This,  according 
to  fabulous  tradition,  was   a  retreat  founded  by  Count 


THE  JOURNEY.  51 

Julian  to  console  his  daughter  Florinda.  It  was  a  rural 
resort  of  the  Moorish  kings  of  Granada;  and  has  in 
modern  times  been  granted  to  the  Duke  of  "Welling- 
ton. 

Our  worthy  squire  made  a  half  melancholy  face  as  he 
drew  forth,  for  the  last  time,  the  contents  of  his  aliorjas, 
lamenting  that  our  expedition  was  drawing  to  a  close, 
for,  with  such  cavaliers,  he  said,  he  could  travel  to  the 
world's  end.  Our  repast,  however,  was  a  gay  one ;  made 
under  such  delightful  auspices.  The  day  was  without 
a  cloud.  The  heat  of  the  sun  was  tempered  by  cool 
breezes  from  the  mountains.  Before  us  extended  the 
glorious  Yega.  In  the  distance  was  romantic  Granada 
surmounted  by  the  ruddy  towers  of  the  Alhambra,  while 
far  above  it  the  snowy  summits  of  the  Sierra  Nevada 
shone  like  silver. 

Our  repast  finished,  we  spread  our  cloaks  and  took  our 
last  siesta  alfresco,  lulled  by  the  humming  of  bees  among 
the  flowers  and  the  notes  of  doves  among  the  olive-trees. 
When  the  sultry  hours  were  passed  we  resumed  our  jour- 
ney. After  a  time  we  overtook  a  pursy  little  man,  shaped 
not  unlike  a  toad  and  mounted  on  a  mule.  He  fell  into 
conversation  with  Sancho,  and  finding  we  were  strangers, 
undertook  to  guide  us  to  a  good  posada.  He  was  an 
escribano  (notary),  he  said,  and  knew  the  city  as  tho- 
roughly as  his  own  pocket.  "  Ah  Dios  Senores !  what  a 
city  you  are  going  to  see.  Such  streets  !  such  squares  ! 
such   palaces !   and  then  the   women —  ah   Santa   Maria 


52  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

purisima — what  women  !  " — "  But  tlie  posada  you  talk 
of,"  said  I,  "  are  you  sure  it  is  a  good  one  ?  " 

"  Good !  Santa  Maria !  the  best  in  Granada.  Salones 
grandes  —  camas  de  luxo  —  colchones  de  pluma  (grand 
saloons — luxurious  sleeping-rooms — beds  of  down).  Ah, 
senores,  you  will  fare  like  King  Chico  in  the  Alhambra." 

*'  And  how  will  my  horses  fare  ?  "  cried  Sancho. 

"  Like  King  Chico's  horses.  Chocolate  con  leche  y  hollos 
fara  almuerza  "  (chocolate  and  milk  with  sugar  cakes  for 
breakfast),  giving  the  squire  a  knowing  wink  and  a  leer. 

After  such  satisfactory  accounts,  nothing  more  was  to 
be  desired  on  that  head.  So  we  rode  quietly  on,  the 
squab  little  notary  taking  the  lead,  and  turning  to  us 
every  moment  with  some  fresh  exclamation  about  the 
grandeurs  of  Granada  and  the  famous  times  we  were  to 
have  at  the  posada. 

Thus  escorted,  we  passed  between  hedges  of  aloes  and 
Indian  figs,  and  through  that  wilderness  of  gardens  with 
which  the  vega  is  embroidered,  and  arrived  about  sunset 
at  the  gates  of  the  city.  Our  officious  little  conductor 
conveyed  us  up  one  street  and  down  another,  until  he 
rode  into  the  court-yard  of  an  inn  where  he  appeared  to 
be  perfectly  at  home.  Summoning  the  landlord  by  his 
Christian  name,  he  committed  us  to  his  care  as  two 
cavalleros  de  mucho  valor,  worthy  of  his  best  apartments 
and  most  sumptuous  fare.  We  were  instantly  reminded 
of  the  patronizing  stranger  who  introduced  Gil  Bias  with 
such  a  flourish  of  trumpets  to  the  host  and  hostess  of  the 


THE  JOURNEY.  53 

inn  at  Pennaflor,  ordering  trouts  for  his  supper,  and  eat- 
ing voraciously  at  his  expense.  "You  know  not  what 
you  possess,"  cried  he  to  the  innkeeper  and  his  wife. 
"You  have  a  treasure  in  your  house.  Behold  in  this 
young  gentleman  the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world — noth- 
ing in  this  house  is  too  good  for  Senor  Gil  Bias  of  Santil- 
lane,  who  deserves  to  be  entertained  like  a  prince." 

Determined  that  the  little  notary  should  not  eat  trouts 
at  our  expense,  like  his  prototype  of  Pennaflor,  we  for- 
bore to  ask  him  to  supper  ;  nor  had  we  reason  to  re- 
proach ourselves  with  ingratitude,  for  we  found  before 
morning  the  little  varlet,  who  was  no  doubt  a  good 
friend  of  the  landlord,  had  decoyed  us  into  one  of  the 
shabbiest  posadas  in  Granada. 


PALACE    OF    THE    ALHAMBEA. 

O  the  traveller  imbued  with  a  feeling  for  the 
historical  and  poetical,  so  inseparably  inter- 
twined in  the  annals  of  romantic  Spain,  the 
Alhambra  is  as  much  an  object  of  devotion  as  is  the 
Caaba  to  all  true  Moslems.  How  many  legends  and  tra- 
ditions, true  and  fabulous, — how  many  songs  and  ballads, 
Arabian  and  Spanish,  of  love  and  war  and  chivalry,  are 
associated  with  this  Oriental  pile !  It  was  the  royal 
abode  of  the  Moorish  kings,  where,  surrounded  with  the 
splendors  and  refinements  of  Asiatic  luxury,  they  held 
dominion  over  what  they  vaunted  as  a  terrestrial  para- 
dise, and  made  their  last  stand  for  empire  in  Spain.  The 
royal  palace  forms  but  a  part  of  a  fortress,  the  walls  of 
which,  studded  with  towers,  stretch  irregularly  round 
the  whole  crest  of  a  hill,  a  spur  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  or 
Snowy  Mountains,  and  overlook  the  city ;  externally  it  is 
a  rude  congregation  of  towers  and  battlements,  with  no 
regularity  of  plan  nor  grace  of  architecture,  and  giving  lit- 
tle promise  of  the  grace  and  beauty  which  prevail  within. 
In  the  time  of  the  Moors  the  fortress  was  capable  of 
containing  within  its  outward  precincts  an  army  of  forty 

54 


/- 


^^S^^^-^-T 


VIEW  OF  THE   ALHAMBRA. 


HISTORIC  FACTS,  55 

thousand  men,  and  served  occasionally  as  a  strong-hold 
of  the  sovereigns  against  their  rebellious  subjects.  After 
the  kingdom  had  passed  into  t}  ^  hands  of  the  Christians, 
the  Alhambra  continued  to  be  a  royal  demesne,  and  was 
occasionally  inhabited  by  the  Casti  an  monarchs.  The 
emperor  Charles  V.  commenced  a  sumptuous  palace 
within  its  walls,  but  was  deterred  from  completing  it  by 
repeated  shocks  of  earthquakes.  The  last  royal  residents 
were  Philip  Y.  and  his  beautiful  queen,  Elizabetta  of 
Parma,  early  in  the  eighteenth  century.  Great  prepara- 
tions were  made  for  their  reception.  The  palace  and 
gardens  were  placed  in  a  state  of  repair,  and  a  new  suite 
of  apartments  erected,  and  decorated  by  artists  brought 
from  Italy.  The  sojourn  of  the  sovereigns  was  transient, 
and  after  their  departure  the  palace  once  more  became 
desolate.  Still  the  place  was  maintained  with  some 
military  state.  The  governor  held  it  immediately  from 
the  crown,  its  jurisdiction  extended  down  into  the 
suburbs  of  the  city,  and  was  independent  of  the  captain- 
generai  of  Granada.  A  considerable  garrison  was  kept 
up  ;  the  governor  had  his  apartments  in  the  front  of  the 
old  Moorish  palace,  and  never  descended  into  Granada 
without  some  military  parade.  The  fortress,  in  fact,  was 
a  little  town  of  itself,  having  several  streets  of  houses 
within  its  walls,  together  with  a  Franciscan  convent  and 
a  parochial  church. 

The  desertion  of  the  court,  however,  was  a  fatal  blow 
to  the  Alhambra.     Its  beautiful  halls  became  desolate. 


56  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  some  of  them  fell  to  ruin;  the  gardens  were  de- 
stroyed, and  the  fountains  ceased  to  play.  By  degrees 
the  dwellings  became  filled  with  a  loose  and  lawless  pop- 
ulation: contrabandistas,  who  availed  themselves  of  its 
independent  jurisdiction  to  carry  on  a  wide  and  daring 
course  of  smuggling,  and  thieves  and  rogues  of  all  sorts, 
who  made  this  their  place  of  refuge  whence  they  might 
depredate  upon  Granada  and  its  vicinity.  The  strong 
arm  of  government  at  length  interfered ;  the  whole  com- 
munity was  thoroughly  sifted;  none  were  suffered  to 
remain  but  such  as  were  of  honest  character,  and  had 
legitimate  right  to  a  residence ;  the  greater  part  of  the 
houses  were  demolished  and  a  mere  hamlet  left,  with  the 
parochial  church  and  the  Franciscan  convent.  During 
the  recent  troubles  in  Spain,  when  Granada  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  French,  the  Alhambra  was  garrisoned  by 
their  troops,  and  the  palace  was  occasionally  inhabited 
by  the  French  commander.  With  that  enlightened  taste 
which  has  ever  distinguished  the  French  nation  in  their 
conquests,  this  monument  of  Moorish  elegance  and  gran- 
deur was  rescued  from  the  absolute  ruin  and  desola- 
tion that  were  overwhelming  it.  The  roofs  were  repaired, 
the  saloons  and  galleries  protected  from  the  weather, 
the  gardens  cultivated,  the  watercourses  restored,  the 
fountains  once  more  made  to  throw  up  their  sparkling 
showers ;  and  Spain  may  thank  her  invaders  for  having 
preserved  to  her  the  most  beautiful  and  interesting  of 
her  historical  monuments. 


REPAIRS  OF  THE  PALACE.  57 

On  the  departure  of  the  French  they  blew  up  several 
towers  of  the  outer  wall,  and  left  the  fortifications 
scarcely  tenable.  Since  that  time  the  military  impor- 
tance of  the  post  is  at  an  end.  The  garrison  is  a  hand- 
ful of  invalid  soldiers,  whose  principal  duty  is  to  guard 
some  of  the  outer  towers,  which  serve  occasionally  as  a 
prison  of  state  ;  and  the  governor,  abandoning  the  lofty 
hill  of  the  Alhambra,  resides  in  the  centre  of  Granada, 
for  the-  more  convenient  dispatch  of  his  official  duties. 
I  cannot  conclude  this  brief  notice  of  the  state  of  the 
fortress  without  bearing  testimony  to  the  honorable 
exertions  of  its  present  commander,  Don  Francisco 
de  Serna,  who  is  tasking  all  the  limited  resources  at 
his  command  to  put  the  palace  in  a  state  of  repair, 
and  by  his  judicious  precautions  has  for  some  time 
arrested  its  too  certain  decay.  Had  his  predeces- 
sors discharged  the  duties  of  their  station  with  equal 
fidelity,  the  Alhambra  might  yet  have  remained  in 
almost  its  pristine  beauty :  were  government  to  second 
him  with  means  equal  to  his  zeal,  this  relic  of  it  might 
still  be  preserved  for  many  generations  to  adorn  the 
land,  and  attract  the  curious  and  enlightened  of  every 
clime. 

Our  first  object  of  course,  on  the  morning  after  our 
arrival,  was  a  visit  to  this  time-honored  edifice ;  it  has 
been  so  often,  however,  and  so  minutely  described  by 
travellers,  that  I  shall  not  undertake  to  give  a  compre- 
hensive and  elaborate  account  of  it,  but  merely  occasional 


58  THE  ALHAMBRA, 

sketches  of  parts,  with  the  incidents  and  associations 
connected  with  them. 

Leaving  our  posada,  and  traversing  the  renowned 
square  of  the  Vivarrambla,  once  the  scene  of  Moorish 
jousts  and  tournaments,  now  a  crowded  market-place,  we 
proceeded  along  the  Zacatin,  the  main  street  of  what,  in 
the  time  of  the  Moors,  was  the  Great  Bazaar,  and  where 
small  shops  and  narrow  alleys  still  retain  the  Oriental 
character.  Crossing  an  open  place  in  front  of  the  palace 
of  the  captain-general,  we  ascended  a  confined  and  wind- 
ing street,  the  name  of  which  reminded  us  of  the  chival- 
ric  days  of  Granada.  It  is  called  the  Calle,  or  street  of 
the  Gomeres,  from  a  Moorish  family  famous  in  chronicle 
and  song.  This  street  led  up  to  the  Puerta  de  las  Grana- 
das,  a  massive  gateway  of  Grecian  architecture,  built  by 
Oharles  Y.,  forming  the  entrance  to  the  domains  of  the 
Alhambra. 

At  the  gate  were  two  or  three  ragged  superannuated 
soldiers,  dozing  on  a  stone  bench,  the  successors  of  the 
Zegris  and  the  Abencerrages ;  while  a  tall,  meagre  varlet, 
whose  rusty-brown  cloak  was  evidently  intended  to  con- 
ceal the  ragged  state  of  his  nether  garments,  was  loung- 
ing in  the  sunshine  and  gossiping  with  an  ancient  sen- 
tinel on  duty.  He  joined  us  as  we  entered  the  gate,  and 
offered  his  services  to  show  us  the  fortress. 

I  have  a  traveller's  dislike  to  officious  ciceroni,  and  did 
not  altogether  like  the  garb  of  the  applicant. 

*'You  are  well  acquainted  with  the  place,  I  presume?  " 


THE  SON  OF  THE  ALHAMBBA.  59 

"  Ninguno  mas  ;  pues  senor,  soy  hijo  de  la  Alhambra." 
— (Nobody  better ;  in  fact,  sir,  I  am  a  son  of  the  Alham- 
bra!) 

The  common  Spaniards  have  certainly  a  most  poetical 
way  of  expressing  themselves.  "A  son  of  the  Alham- 
bra ! "  the  appellation  caught  me  at  once ;  the  very  tat- 
tered garb  of  my  new  acquaintance  assumed  a  dignity  in 
my  eyes.  It  was  emblematic  of  the  fortunes  of  the  place, 
and  befitted  the  progeny  of  a  ruin. 

I  put  some  further  questions  to  him,  and  found  that 
his  title  was  legitimate.  His  family  had  lived  in  the  for- 
tress from  generation  to  generation  ever  since  the  time  of 
the  Conquest.  His  name  was  Mateo  Ximenes.  "  Then, 
perhaps,"  said  I,  "you  may  be  a  descendant  from  the 
great  Cardinal  Ximenes?" — "Dios  Sabe !  God  knows, 
Senor !  It  may  be  so.  We  are  the  oldest  family  in  the 
Alhambra, — Christianos  Viejos,  old  Christians,  without 
any  taint  of  Moor  or  Jew.  I  know  we  belong  to  some 
great  family  or  other,  but  I  forget  whom.  My  father 
knows  all  about  it :  he  has  the  coat  of  arms  hanging  up 
in  his  cottage,  up  in  the  fortress."  There  is  not  any 
Spaniard,  however  poor,  but  has  some  claim  to  high 
pedigree.  The  first  title  of  this  ragged  worthy,  however, 
had  completely  captivated  me  ;  so  I  gladly  accepted  the 
services  of  the  "  son  of  the  Alhambra." 

We  now  found  ourselves  in  a  deep  narrow  ravine,  filled 
with  beautiful  groves,  with  a  steep  avenue,  and  various 
footpaths  winding  through  it,  bordered  with  stone  seats, 


60  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  ornamented  with  fountains.  To  our  left  we  beheld 
the  towers  of  the  Alhambra  beetling  above  us ;  to  our 
right,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  ravine,  we  were  equally 
dominated  by  rival  towers  on  a  rocky  eminence.  These, 
we  were  told,  were  the  Torres  Vermejos,  or  vermilion 
towers,  so  called  from  their  ruddy  hue.  No  one  knows 
their  origin.  They  are  of  a  date  much  anterior  to  the 
Alhambra :  some  suppose  them  to  have  been  built  by  the 
Romans ;  others,  by  some  wandering  colony  of  Phoeni- 
cians. Ascending  the  steep  and  shady  avenue,  we  ar- 
rived at  the  foot  of  a  huge  square  Moorish  tower,  form- 
ing a  kind  of  barbican,  through  which  passed  the  main 
entrance  to  the  fortress.  Within  the  barbican  was  an- 
other group  of  veteran  invalids,  one  mounting  guard  at 
the  portal,  while  the  rest,  wrapped  in  their  tattered 
cloaks,  slept  on  the  stone  benches.  This  portal  is  called 
the  Gate  of  Justice,  from  the  tribunal  held  within  its 
porch  during  the  Moslem  domination,  for  the  immediate 
trial  of  petty  causes  :  a  custom  common  to  the  Oriental 
nations,  and  occasionally  alluded  to  in  the  Sacred  Scrip- 
tures. "  Judges  and  officers  shalt  thou  make  thee  in  all 
thy  gates,  and  they  shall  judge  the  people  with  just  judg- 
ment." 

The  great  vestibule,  or  porch  of  the  gate,  is  formed  by 
an  immense  Arabian  arch,  of  the  horseshoe  form,  which 
springs  to  half  the  height  of  the  tower.  On  the  keystone 
of  this  arch  is  engraven  a  gigantic  hand.  Within  the 
vestibule,  on  the  keystone  of  the  portal,  is  sculptured,  in 


M00BI8H  TALISMANS.  61 

like  manner,  a  gigantic  key.  Those  who  pretend  to  some 
knowledge  of  Mohammedan  symbols,  affirm  that  the  hand 
is  the  emblem  of  doctrine;  the  five  fingers  designating 
the  ^YQ  principal  commandments  of  the  creed  of  Islam, 
fasting,  pilgrimage,  alms-giving,  ablution,  and  war  against 
infidels.  The  key,  say  they,  is  the  emblem  of  the  faith  oj 
of  power ;  the  key  of  Daoud,  or  David,  transmitted  to  the 
prophet.  "  And  the  key  of  the  house  of  David  will  I  lay 
upon  his  shoulder ;  so  he  shall  open  and  none  shall  shut, 
and  he  shall  shut  and  none  shall  open."  (Isaiah  xxii.  22.) 
The  key  we  are  told  was  emblazoned  on  the  standard  of 
the  Moslems  in  opposition  to  the  Christian  emblem  of 
the  cross,  when  they  subdued  Spain  or  Andalusia.  It 
betokened  the  conquering  power  invested  in  the  prophet. 
"  He  that  hath  the  key  of  David,  he  that  openeth  and  no 
man  shutteth;  and  shutteth  and  no  man  openeth,"  (Eev. 
iii.  7.) 

A  different  explanation  of  these  emblems,  however,  was 
given  by  the  legitimate  son  of  the  Alhambra,  and  one 
more  in  unison  with  the  notions  of  the  common  people, 
who  attach  something  of  mystery  and  magic  to  every- 
thing Moorish,  and  have  all  kinds  of  superstitions  con- 
nected with  this  old  Moslem  fortress.  According  to 
Mateo,  it  was  a  tradition  handed  down  from  the  oldest 
inhabitants,  and  which  he  had  from  his  father  and  grand- 
father, that  the  hand  and  key  were  magical  devices  on 
which  the  fate  of  the  Alhambra  depended.  The  Moorish 
king  who   built   it  was  a  great   magician,  or,   as  some 


62  THE  ALHAMBrA. 

believed,  had  sold  himself  to  the  devil,  and  had  laid  the 
whole  fortress  under  a  magic  spell.  By  this  means  it  had 
remained  standing  for  several  years,  in  defiance  of  storms 
and  earthquakes,  while  almost  all  other  buildings  of  the 
Moors  had  fallen  to  ruin  and  disappeared.  This  spell, 
the  tradition  went  on  to  say,  would  last  until  the  hand 
on  the  outer  arch  should  reach  down  and  grasp  the 
key,  when  the  whole  pile  would  tumble  to  pieces,  and  all 
the  treasures  buried  beneath  it  by  the  Moors  would  be 
revealed. 

Notwithstanding  this  ominous  prediction,  we  ventured 
to  pass  through  the  spell-bound  gateway,  feeling  some 
little  assurance  against  magic  art  in  the  protection  of  the 
Yirgin,  a  statue  of  whom  we  observed  above  the  portal. 

After  passing  through  the  barbican,  we  ascended  a 
narrow  lane,  winding  between  walls,  and  came  on  an  open 
esplanade  within  the  fortress,  called  the  Plaza  de  los 
Algibes,  or  Place  of  the  Cisterns,  from  great  reservoirs 
which  undermine  it,  cut  in  the  living  rock  by  the  Moors 
to  receive  the  water  brought  by  conduits  from  the  Darro, 
for  the  supply  of  the  fortress.  Here,  also,  is  a  well  of 
immense  depth,  furnishing  the  purest  and  coldest  of 
water, — another  monument  of  the  delicate  taste  of  the 
Moors,  who  were  indefatigable  in  their  exertions  to  ob- 
tain that  element  in  its  crystal  purity. 

In  front  of  this  esplanade  is  the  splendid  pile  com- 
menced by  Charles  Y.,  and  intended,  it  is  said,  to  eclipse 
the  residence  of  the  Moorish  kings.     Much  of  the  Orient 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  PALACE.  63 

tal  edifice  intended  for  the  winter  season  was  demolished 
to  make  way  for  this  massive  pile.  The  grand  entrance 
was  blocked  up;  so  that  the  present  entrance  to  the 
Moorish  palace  is  through  a  simple  and  almost  humble 
portal  in  a  corner.  With  all  the  massive  grandeur  and 
architectural  merit  of  the  palace  of  Charles  Y.,  we  re- 
garded it  as  an  arrogant  intruder,  and  passing  by  it  with 
a  feeling  almost  of  scorn,  rang  at  the  Moslem  portal. 

While  waiting  for  admittance,  our  self-imposed  cice- 
rone, Mateo  Ximenes,  informed  us  that  the  royal  palace 
was  intrusted  to  the  care  of  a  worthy  old  maiden  dame 
called  Dona  Antonia  -  Molina,  but  who,  according  to 
Spanish  custom,  went  by  the  more  neighborly  appella- 
tion of  Tia  Antonia  (Aunt  Antonia),  who  maintained  the 
Moorish  halls  and  gardens  in  order  and  showed  them  to 
strangers.  While  we  were  talking,  the  door  was  opened 
by  a  plump  little  black-eyed  Andalusian  damsel,  whom 
Mateo  addressed  as  Dolores,  but  who  from  her  bright 
looks  and  cheerful  disposition  evidently  merited  a  mer- 
rier name.  Mateo  informed  me  in  a  whisper  that  she 
was  the  niece  of  Tia  Antonia,  and  I  found  she  was  the 
good  fairy  who  was  to  conduct  us  through  the  enchanted 
palace.  Under  her  guidance  we  crossed  the  threshold, 
and  were  at  once  transported,  as  if  by  magic  wand,  into 
other  times  and  an  oriental  realm,  and  were  treading  the 
scenes  of  Arabian  story.  Nothing  could  be  in  greater 
contrast  than  the  unpromising  exterior  of  the  pile  with 
the  scene  now  before  us.     We  found  ourselves  in  a  vast 


64  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

patio  or  court,  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  length,  and 
upwards  of  eighty  feet  in  breadth,  paved  with  white 
marble,  and  decorated  at  each  end  with  light  Moorish 
peristyles,  one  of  which  supported  an  elegant  gallery  of 
fretted  architecture.  Along  the  mouldings  of  the  cor- 
nices and  on  various  parts  of  the  walls  were  escutcheons 
and  ciphers,  and  cufic  and  Arabic  characters  in  high  re- 
lief, repeating  the  pious  mottoes  of  the  Moslem  mon-^ 
archs,  the  builders  of  the  Alhambra,  or  extolling  their 
grandeur  and  munificence.  Along  the  centre  of  the 
court  extended  an  immense  basin  or  tank  (estanque),  a 
hundred  and  twenty-four  feet  in  length,  twenty-seven  in 
breadth,  and  five  in  depth,  receiving  its  water  from  two 
marble  vases.  Hence  it  is  called  the  Court  of  the  Ah 
berca  (from  al  Beerkah,  the  Arabic  for  a  pond  or  tank). 
Great  numbers  of  gold-fish  were  to  be  seen  gleaming 
through  the  waters  of  the  basin,  and  it  was  bordered  by 
hedges  of  roses. 

Passing  from  the  court  of  the  Alberca  under  a  Moorish 
archway,  we  entered  the  renowned  court  of  Lions.  No 
part  of  the  edifice  gives  a  more  complete  idea  of  its  origi- 
nal beauty  than  this,  for  none  has  suffered  so  little  from 
the  ravages  of  time.  In  the  centre  stands  the  fountain 
famous  in  song  and  story.  The  alabaster  basins  still  shed 
their  diamond  drops  ;  the  twelve  lions  which  support 
them,  and  give  the  court  its  name,  still  cast  forth  crystal 
streams  as  in  the  days  of  Boabdil.  The  lions,  however, 
are  unworthy  of  their  fame,  being  of  miserable  sculpture, 


INTERIOR   OF  THE  PALACE.  65 

the  work  probably  of  some  Christian  captive.  The  court 
is  laid  out  in  flower-beds,  instead  of  its  ancient  and  ap- 
propriate pavement  of  tiles  or  marble ;  the  alteration,  an 
instance  of  bad  taste,  was  made  by  the  French  when  in 
possession  of  Granada.  Kound  the  four  sides  of  the 
court  are  light  Arabian  arcades  of  open  filigree  work, 
supported  by  slender  pillars  of  white  marble,  which  it  is 
supposed  were  originally  gilded.  The  architecture,  like 
that  in  most  parts  of  the  interior  of  the  palace,  is  charac- 
terized by  elegance  rather  than  grandeur,  bespeaking  a 
delicate  and  graceful  taste,  and  a  disposition  to  indolent 
enjoyment.  When  one  looks  upon  the  fairy  traces  of  the 
peristyles,  and  the  apparently  fragile  fretwork  of  the 
walls,  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  so  much  has  survived 
the  wear  and  tear  of  centuries,  the  shocks  of  earthquakes, 
the  violence  of  war,  and  the  quiet,  though  no  less  bane- 
ful, pilferings  of  the  tasteful  traveller  :  it  is  almost  suffi- 
cient to  excuse  the  popular  tradition,  that  the  whole  is 
protected  by  a  magic  charm. 

On  one  side  of  the  court  a  rich  portal  opens  into  the 
Hall  of  the  Abencerrages  :  so  called  from  the  gallant  cav- 
aliers of  that  illustrious  line  who  were  here  perfidiously 
massacred.  There  are  some  who  doubt  the  whole  story, 
but  our  humble  cicerone  Mateo  pointed  out  the  very 
wicket  of  the  portal  through  which  they  were  introduced 
one  by  one  into  the  court  of  Lions,  and  the  white  marble 
fountain  in  the  centre  of  the  hall  beside  which  they  were 
beheaded.  He  showed  us  also  certain  broad  ruddy  stains 
6 


QQ  THE  ALHAMBUA. 

on  the  pavement,  traces  of  their  blood,  which,  according 
to  popular  belief,  can  never  be  effaced. 

Finding  we  listened  to  him  apparently  with  easy  faith, 
he  added,  that  there  was  often  heard  at  night,  in  the 
court  of  Lions,  a  low  confused  sound,  resembling  the 
murmuring  of  a  multitude,  and  now  and  then  a  faint 
tinkling,  like  the  distant  clank  of  chains.  These  sounds 
were  made  by  the  spirits  of  the  murdered  Abencerrages ; 
who  nightly  haunt  the  scene  of  their  suffering  and  invoke 
the  vengeance  of  Heaven  on  their  destroyer. 

The  sounds  in  question  had  no  doubt  been  produced, 
as  I  had  afterwards  an  opportunity  of  ascertaining,  by  the 
bubbling  currents  and  tinkling  falls  of  water  conducted 
under  the  pavement  through  pipes  and  channels  to  sup- 
ply the  fountains ;  but  I  was  too  considerate  to  intimate 
such  an  idea  to  the  humble  chronicler  of  the  Alhambra^ 

Encouraged  by  my  easy  credulity,  Mateo  gave  me  the 
following  as  an  undoubted  fact,  which  he  had  from  his 
grandfather : — 

There  was  once  an  invalid  soldier,  who  had  charge  of 
the  Alhambra  to  show  it  to  strangers;  as  he  was  one 
evening,  about  twilight,  passing  through  the  court  of 
Lions,  he  heard  footsteps  on  the  Hall  of  the  Abencer- 
rages; supposing  some  strangers  to  be  lingering  there, 
he  advanced  to  attend  upon  them,  when  to  his  astonish- 
ment he  beheld  four  Moors  richly  dressed,  with  gilded 
cuirasses  and  cimeters,  and  poniards  glittering  with  pre- 
cious stones.    They  were  walking  to  and  fro,  with  solemn 


HALL  OF  THE  TWO  8I8TEB8.  67 

pace ;  but  paused  and  beckoned  to  bim.  Tbe  old  soldier, 
however,  took  to  flight,  and  could  never  afterwards  be 
prevailed  upon  to  enter  the  Alhambra.  Thus  it  is  that 
men  sometimes  turn  their  backs  upon  fortune ;  for  it  is 
the  firm  opinion  of  Mateo,  that  tbe  Moors  intended  to 
reveal  the  place  where  their  treasures  lay  buried.  A 
successor  to  the  invalid  soldier  was  more  knowing;  he 
came  to  the  Alhambra  poor;  but  at  the  end  of  a  year 
went  off  to  Malaga,  bought  houses,  set  up  a  carriage,  and 
still  lives  there,  one  of  the  richest  as  well  as  oldest  men 
of  the  place ;  all  which,  Mateo  sagely  surmised,  was  in 
consequence  of  his  finding  out  the  golden  secret  of  these 
phantom  Moors. 

I  now  perceived  I  had  made  an  invaluable  acquaint- 
ance in  this  son  of  the  Alhambra,  one  who  knew  all  the 
apocryphal  history  of  the  place,  and  firmly  believed  in  it, 
and  whose  memory  was  stuffed  with  a  kind  of  knowledge 
for  which  I  have  a  lurking  fancy,  but  which  is  too  apt  to 
be  considered  rubbish  by  less  indulgent  philosophers.  I 
determined  to  cultivate  the  acquaintance  of  this  learned 
Theban. 

Immediately  opposite  the  hall  of  the  Abencerrages,  a 
portal,  richly  adorned,  leads  into  a  hall  of  less  tragical 
associations.  It  is  b'ght  and  lofty,  exquisitely  graceful  in 
its  architecture,  paved  with  white  marble,  and  bears  the 
suggestive  name  of  the  Hall  of  the  Two  Sisters.  Some 
destroy  the  romance  of  the  name  by  attributing  it  to  two 
enormous  slabs  of  alabaster  which  lie  side  by  side,  and 


63  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

form  a  great  part  of  the  pavement :  an  opinioxi  strongly 
supported  by  Mateo  Ximenes.  Others  are  disposed  to 
give  the  name  a  more  poetical  significance,  as  the  vague 
memorial  of  Moorish  beauties  who  once  graced  this  hall, 
which  was  evidently  a  part  of  the  royal  harem.  This 
opinion  I  was  happy  to  find  entertained  by  our  little 
bright-eyed  guide,  Dolores,  who  pointed  to  a  balcony 
over  an  inner  porch,  which  gallery,  she  had  been  told, 
belonged  to  the  women's  apartment.  "  You  see,  senor," 
said  she,  "  it  is  all  grated  and  latticed,  like  the  gallery  in 
a  convent  chapel  where  the  nuns  hear  mass;  for  the 
Moorish  kings,"  added  she,  indignantly,  "shut  up  their 
wives  just  like  nuns." 

The  latticed  "jalousies,"  in  fact,  still  remain,  whence 
the  dark-eyed  beauties  of  the  harem  might  gaze  unseen 
upon  the  zambras  and  other  dances  and  entertainments 
of  the  hall  below. 

On  each  side  of  this  hall  are  recesses  or  alcoves  for 
ottomans  and  couches,  on  which  the  voluptuous  lords  of 
the  Alhambra  indulged  in  that  dreamy  repose  so  dear  to 
the  Orientalists.  A  cupola  or  lantern  admits  a  tempered 
light  from  above  and  a  free  circulation  of  air ;  while  on 
one  side  is  heard  the  refreshing  sound  of  waters  from  the 
fountain  of  the  lions,  and  on  the  other  side  the  soft  plash 
from  the  basin  in  the  garden  of  Lindaraxa. 

It  is  impossible  to  contemplate  this  scene,  so  perfectly 
Oriental,  without  feeling  the  early  associations  of  Arabian 
romance,  and  almost  expecting  to  see  the  white  arm  of 


HALL   OF   THE  TWO    SISTERS. 


HALL   OF  THE  TWO  8I8TEB8.  69 

some  mysterious  princess  beckoning  from  the  gallery,  or 
some  dark  eye  sparkling  through  the  lattice.  The  abode 
of  beauty  is  here  as  if  it  had  been  inhabited  but  yester- 
day ;  but  where  are  the  two  sisters,  where  the  Zoraydas 
and  Lindaraxas ! 

An  abundant  supply  of  water,  brought  from  the  moun- 
tains by  old  Moorish  aqueducts,  circulates  throughout 
the  palace,  supplying  its  baths  and  fish-pools,  sparkling 
in  jets  within  its  halls  or  murmuring  in  channels  along 
the  marble  pavements.  When  it  has  paid  its  tribute  to 
the  royal  pile,  and  visited  its  gardens  and  parterres,  it 
flows  down  the  long  avenue  leading  to  the  city,  tinkling 
in  rills,  gushing  in  fountains,  and  maintaining  a  perpetual 
verdure  in  those  groves  that  embower  and  beautify  the 
whole  hill  of  the  Alhambra. 

Those  only  who  have  sojourned  in  the  ardent  climates 
of  the  South  can  appreciate  the  delights  of  an  abode 
combining  the  breezy  coolness  of  the  mountain  with  the 
freshness  and  verdure  of  the  valley.  While  the  city  be- 
low pants  with  t*he  noontide  heat,  and  the  parched  Yega 
trembles  to  the  eye,  the  delicate  airs  from  the  Sierra  Ne- 
vada play  through  these  lofty  halls,  bringing  with  them 
the  sweetness  of  the  surrounding  gardens.  Everything 
invites  to  that  indolent  repose,  the  bliss  of  southern 
climes;  and  while  the  half-shut  eye  looks  out  from 
shaded  balconies  upon  the  glittering  landscape,  the  ear 
is  lulled  by  the  rustling  of  groves  and  the  murmur  of 
running  streams. 


70  ^I'SE  ALHAMBRA. 

I  forbear  for  the  present,  however,  to  describe  the 
other  delightful  apartments  of  the  palace.  My  object  is 
merely  to  give  the  reader  a  general  introduction  into  an 
abode  where,  if  so  disposed,  he  may  linger  and  loiter 
with  me  day  by  day  until  we  gradually  become  familiar 
with  all  its  localities. 


NOTE  ON  MORISCO  ARCHITECTURE. 

To  an  unpractised  eye  the  light  relievos  and  fanciful  arabesques  which 
cover  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra  appear  to  have  been  sculptured  by  the 
hand,  with  a  minute  and  patient  labor,  an  inexhaustible  variety  of  detail, 
yet  a  general  uniformity  and  harmony  of  design  truly  astonishing  ;  and 
this  may  especially  be  said  of  the  vaults  and  cupolas,  which  are  wrought 
like  honey-combs,  or  frostwork,  with  stalactites  and  pendants  which  con- 
found the  beholder  with  the  seeming  intricacy  of  their  patterns.  The 
astonishment  ceases,  however,  when  it  is  discovered  that  this  is  all  stucco- 
work  ;  plates  of  plaster  of  Paris,  cast  in  moulds  and  skilfully  joined  so  as 
to  form  patterns  of  every  size  and  form.  This  mode  of  diapering  walls 
with  arabesques,  and  stuccoing  the  vaults  with  grotto-work,  was  in- 
vented in  Damascus,  but  highly  improved  by  the  Moors  in  Morocco,  to 
whom  Saracenic  architecture  owes  its  most  graceful  and  fanciful  details. 
The  process  by  which  all  this  fairy  tracery  was  produced  was  ingeniously 
simple.  The  wall  in  its  naked  state  was  divided  off  by  lines  crossing  at 
right  angles,  such  as  artists  use  in  copying  a  picture  ;  over  these  were 
drawn  a  succession  of  intersecting  segments  of  circles.  By  the  aid  of 
these  the  artists  could  work  with  celerity  and  certainty,  and  from  the 
mere  intersection  of  the  plain  and  curved  lines  arose  the  interminable 
variety  of  patterns  and  the  general  uniformity  of  their  character.* 

Much  gilding  was  used  in  the  stucco-work,  especially  of  the  cupolas  ; 

*  See  Urquhart's  Pillars  ctf  Hercules,  B,  III.  C.  8. 


M0BI8C0  ABCHITEGTUBE.  71 

and  the  interstices  were  delicately  pencilled  with  brilliant  colors,  such  as 
vermilion  and  lapis  lazuli,  laid  on  with  the  whites  of  eggs.  The  primi- 
tive colors  alone  were  used,  says  Ford,  by  the  Egyptians,  Greeks,  and 
Arabs,  in  the  early  period  of  art  ;  and  they  prevail  in  the  Alhambra 
whenever  the  artist  has  been  Arabic  or  Moorish.  It  is  remarkable  how 
much  of  their  original  brilliancy  remains  after  the  lapse  of  several  cen- 
turies. 

The  lower  part  of  the  walls  in  the  saloons,  to  the  height  of  several 
feet,  is  incrusted  with  glazed  tiles,  joined  like  the  plates  of  stucco-work, 
so  as  to  form  various  patterns.  On  some  of  them  are  emblazoned  the 
escutcheons  of  the  Moslem  kings,  traversed  with  a  band  and  motto. 
These  glazed  tiles  (azulejos  in  Spanish,  az-zulaj  in  Arabic)  are  of  Oriental 
origin ;  their  coolness,  cleanliness,  and  freedom  from  vermin,  render 
them  admirably  fitted  in  sultry  climates  for  paving  halls  and  fountains, 
incrusting  bathing-rooms,  and  lining  the  walls  of  chambers.  Ford  is  in- 
clined to  give  them  great  antiquity.  From  their  prevailing  colors,  sap- 
phire and  blue,  he  deduces  that  they  may  have  fonned  the  kind  of  pave- 
ments alluded  to  in  the  sacred  Scriptures  : — "  There  was  under  his  feet 
as  it  were  a  paved  work  of  a  sapphire  stone  "  (Exod.  xxiv.  10);  and  again, 
"  Behold  I  will  lay  thy  stones  with  fair  colors,  and  lay  thy  foundations 
with  sapphires  "  (Isaiah  liv.  11). 

These  glazed  or  porcelain  tiles  were  introduced  into  Spain  at  an  early 
date  by  the  Moslems.  Some  are  to  be  seen  among  the  Moorish  ruins 
which  have  been  there  upwards  of  eight  centuries.  Manufactures  of 
them  stiU  exist  in  the  Peninsula,  and  they  are  much  used  in  the  best 
Spanish  houses,  especially  in  the  southern  provinces,  for  paving  and 
lining  the  summer  apartments. 

The  Spaniards  introduced  them  into  the  Netherlands  when  they  had 
possession  of  that  country.  The  people  of  Holland  adopted  them  with 
avidity,  as  wonderfully  suited  to  their  passion  for  household  cleanli- 
ness ;  and  thus  these  Oriental  inventions,  the  azulejos  of  the  Spanish, 
the  az-zulaj  of  the  Ai"abs,  have  come  to  be  commonly  known  as  Butch 
tiles. 


IMPOETANT  NEGOTIATIONS.  — THE  AU- 
THOR SUCCEEDS  TO  THE  THRONE  OP 
BOABDIL. 

HE  day  was  nearly  spent  before  we  could  tear 
ourself  from  this  region  of  poetry  and  romance 
to  descend  to  the  city  and  return  to  the  for- 
lorn realities  of  a  Spanish  posada.  In  a  visit  of  cere- 
mony to  the  Governor  of  the  Alhambra,  to  whom  we 
had  brought  letters,  we  dwelt  with  enthusiasm  on  the 
scenes  we  had  witnessed,  and  could  not  but  express  sur- 
prise that  he  should  reside  in  the  city  when  he  had  such 
a  paradise  at  his  command.  He  pleaded  the  inconveni- 
ence of  a  residence  in  the  palace  from  its  situation  on 
the  crest  of  a  hill,  distant  from  the  seat  of  business  and 
the  resorts  of  social  intercourse.  It  did  very  well  for 
monarchs,  who  often  had  need  of  castle  walls  to  defend 
them  from  their  own  subjects.  "  But,  senors,"  added  he, 
smiling,  "  if  you  think  a  residence  there  so  desirable,  my 
apartments  in  the  Alhambra  are  at  your  service." 

It  is  a  common  and  almost  indispensable  point  of 
politeness  in  a  Spaniard,  to  tell  you  his  house  is  yours. 
— "  Esta  casa  es  siempre  a  la  disposicion  de  Ym." — ■ 
"  This  house  is  always  at  the  command  of  your  Grace." 

72 


-t-M^r      .,...: 


GREAT    GATE   OF  JUSTICE. 


TEE  LOAN  OF  A  PALACE.  73 

In  fact,  anything  of  his  which  you  admire,  is  immedi- 
ately offered  to  you.  It  is  equally  a  mark  of  good  breed- 
ing in  you  not  to  accept  it ;  so  we  merely  bowed  our 
acknowledgments  of  the  courtesy  of  the  Governor  in  of- 
fering us  a  royal  palace.  We  were  mistaken,  however. 
The  Governor  was  in  earnest.  "You  will  find  a  ram- 
bling set  of  empty,  unfurnished  rooms,"  said  he ;  "  but 
Tia  Antonia,  who  has  charge  of  the  palace,  may  be  able 
to  put  them  in  some  kind  of  order,  and  to  take  care  of 
you  while  you  are  there.  If  you  can  make  any  arrange- 
ment with  her  for  your  accommodation,  and  are  content 
with  scanty  fare  in  a  royal  abode,  the  palace  of  King 
Chico  is  at  your  service." 

We  took  the  Governor  at  his  word,  and  hastened  up 
the  steep  Calle  de  los  Gomeres,  and  through  the  Great 
Gate  of  Justice,  to  negotiate  with  Dame  Antonia, — 
doubting  at  times  if  this  were  not  a  dream,  and  fearing 
at  times  that  the  sage  Duena  of  the  fortress  might  be 
slow  to  capitulate.  We  knew  we  had  one  friend  at  least 
in  the  garrison,  who  would  be  in  our  favor,  the  bright- 
eyed  little  Dolores,  whose  good  graces  we  had  propiti- 
ated on  our  first  \dsit ;  and  who  hailed  our  return  to  the 
palace  with  her  brightest  looks. 

All,  however,  went  smoothly.  The  good  Tia  Antonia 
had  a  little  furniture  to  put  in  the  rooms,  but  it  was  of 
the  commonest  kind.  We  assured  her  we  could  bivouac 
on  the  floor.  She  could  supply  our  table,  but  only  in 
her  own  simple  way  ; — we  wanted  nothing  better.     Her 


74  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

niece,  Dolores,  would  wait  upon  us  ;  and  at  the  word  we 
threw  up  our  hats  and  the  bargain  was  complete. 

The  very  next  day  we  took  up  our  abode  in  the  palace, 
and  never  did  sovereigns  share  a  divided  throne  with 
more  perfect  harmony.  Several  days  passed  by  like  a 
dream,  when  my  worthy  associate,  being  summoned  to 
Madrid  on  diplomatic  duties,  was  compelled  to  abdicate, 
leaving  me  sole  monarch  of  this  shadowy  realm.  For 
myself,  being  in  a  manner  a  hap-hazard  loiterer  about 
the  world,  and  prone  to  linger  in  its  pleasant  places,  here 
have  I  been  suffering  day  by  day  to  steal  away  unheeded, 
spell-bound,  for  aught  I  know,  in  this  old  enchanted 
pile.  Having  always  a  companionable  feeling  for  my 
reader,  and  being  prone  to  live  with  him  on  confidential 
terms,  I  shall  make  it  a  point  to  communicate  to  him  my 
reveries  and  researches  during  this  state  of  delicious 
thraldom.  If  they  have  the  power  of  imparting  to  his 
imagination  any  of  the  witching  charms  of  the  place,  he 
will  not  repine  at  lingering  with  me  for  a  season  in  the 
legendary  halls  of  the  Alhambra. 

And  first  it  is  proper  to  give  him  some  idea  of  my 
domestic  arrangements :  they  are  rather  of  a  simple  kind 
for  the  occupant  of  a  regal  palace  ;  but  I  trust  they  will 
be  less  liable  to  disastrous  reverses  than  those  of  my 
royal  predecessors. 

My  quarters  are  at  one  end  of  the  Governor's  apart- 
ment, a  suite  of  empty  chambers,  in  front  of  the  palace, 
looking  out  upon  the  great  esplanade  called  la  plaza  de 


DOMESTIC  ARRANGEMENTS.  75 

hs  (dgihes  (the  place  of  the  cisterns) ;  the  apaf  tment 
is  moderiij  but  the  end  opposite  to  my  sleeping-room 
communicates  with  a  cluster  of  little  chambers,  partly 
Moorish,  partly  Spanish,  allotted  to  the  cMtelawje  Doiia 
Antonia  and  her  family.  In  consideration  of  keeping  the 
palace  in  order,  the  good  dame  is  allowed  all  the  perqui- 
sites received  from  visitors,  and  all  the  produce  of  the 
gardens  ;  excepting  that  she  is  expected  to  pay  an  oc- 
casional tribute  of  fruits  and  flowers  to  the  Governor. 
Her  family  consists  of  a  nephew  and  niece,  the  children 
of  two  different  brothers.  The  nephew,  Manuel  Molina, 
is  a  young  man  of  sterling  worth  and  Spanish  gravity. 
He  had  served  in  the  army,  both  in  Spain  and  the  West 
Indies,  but  is  now  studying  naedicine  in  the  hope  of  one 
day  or  other  becoming  physician  to  the  fortress,  a  post 
worth  at  least  one  hundred  and  forty  dollars  a  year.  The 
niece  is  the  plump  little  black-eyed  Dolores  already  men- 
tioned ;  and  who,  it  is  said,  will  one  day  inherit  all  her 
aunt's  possessions,  consisting  of  certain  petty  tenements 
in  the  fortress,  in  a  somewhat  ruinous  condition  it  is  true, 
but  which,  I  am  privately  assured  by  Mateo  Ximenes, 
yield  a  revenue  of  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars ; 
so  that  she  is  quite  an  heiress  in  the  eyes  of  the  ragged 
son  of  the  Alhambra.  I  am  also  informed  by  the  same 
observant  and  authentic  personage,  that  a  quiet  courtship 
is  going  on  between  the  discreet  Manuel  and  his  bright- 
eyed  cousin,  and  that  nothing  is  wanting  to  enable  them 
to  join  their   hands  and   expectations  but   his  doctor's 


76  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

diploma,  and  a  dispensation  from  the  Pope  on  account  of 
their  consanguinity. 

The  good  dame  Antonia  fulfils  faithfully  her  contract 
in  regard  to  my  board  and  lodging ;  and  as  I  am  easily 
pleased,  I  find  my  fare  excellent ;  while  the  merry- 
hearted  little  Dolores  keeps  my  apartment  in  order,  and 
officiates  as  handmaid  at  meal-times.  I  have  also  at  my 
command  a  tall,  stuttering,  yellow-haired  lad,  named 
Pepe,  who  works  in  the  gardens,  and  would  fain  have 
acted  as  valet ;  but  in  this  he  was  forestalled  by  Mateo 
Ximenes,  the  "  son  of  the  Alhambra."  This  alert  and 
officious  wight  has  managed,  somehow  or  other,  to  stick 
by  me  ever  since  I  first  encountered  him  at  the  outer 
gate  of  the  fortress,  and  to  weave  himself  into  all  my 
plans,  until  he  has  fairly  appointed  and  installed  himself 
my  valet,  cicerone,  guide,  guard,  and  historiographic 
squire  ;  and  I  have  been  obliged  to  improve  the  state  of 
his  wardrobe,  that  he  may  not  disgrace  his  various  func- 
tions ;  so  that  he  has  cast  his  old  brown  mantle,  as  a 
snake  does  his  skin,  and  now  appears  about  the  fortress 
with  a  smart  Andalusian  hat  and  jacket,  to  his  infinite 
satisfaction,  and  the  great  astonishment  of  his  comrades. 
The  chief  fault  of  honest  Mateo  is  an  over-anxiety  to  be 
useful.  Conscious  of  having  foisted  himself  into  my  em- 
ploy, and  that  my  simple  and  quiet  habits  render  his  sit- 
uation a  sinecure,  he  is  at  his  wit's  ends  to  devise  modes 
of  making  himself  important  to  my  welfare.  I  am  in  a 
manner  the  victim  of  his  officiousness ;  I  cannot  put  my 


MATEO  XIMENE8.  77 

foot  over  the  threshold  of  the  palace,  to  stroll  about  the 
fortress,  but  he  is  at  my  elbow,  to  explain  everything  I 
see ;  and  if  I  venture  to  ramble  among  the  surrounding 
hills,  he  insists  upon  attending  me  as  a  guard,  though  I 
vehemently  suspect  he  would  be  more  apt  to  trust  to  the 
length  of  his  legs  than  the  strength  of  his  arms,  in  case  of 
attack.  After  all,  however,  the  poor  fellow  is  at  times  an 
amusing  companion ;  he  is  simple-minded  and  of  infinite 
good  humor,  with  the  loquacity  and  gossip  of  a  village 
barber,  and  knows  all  the  small-talk  of  the  place  and  its  en- 
virons ;  but  what  he  chiefly  values  himself  on,  is  his  stock 
of  local  information,  having  the  most  marvellous  stories 
to  relate  of  every  tower,  and  vault,  and  gateway  of  the 
fortress,  in  all  of  which  he  places  the  most  implicit  faith. 
Most  of  these  he  has  derived,  according  to  his  own  ac- 
count, from  his  grandfather,  a  little  legendary  tailor,  who 
lived  to  the  age  of  nearly  a  hundred  years,  during  which 
he  made  but  two  migrations  beyond  the  precincts  of  the 
fortress.  His  shop,  for  the  greater  part  of  a  century  was 
the  resort  of  a  knot  of  venerable  gossips,  where  they 
would  pass  half  the  night  talking  about  old  times,  and 
the  wonderful  events  and  hidden  secrets  of  the  place. 
The  whole  living,  moving,  thinking,  and  acting  of  this 
historical  little  tailor  had  thus  been  bounded  by  the 
walls  of  the  Alhambra ;  within  them  he  had  been  born, 
within  them  he  lived,  breathed,  and  had  his  being  ; 
within  them  he  died  and  was  buried.  Fortunately  for 
posterity  his  traditionary  lore  died  not  with  him.     The 


78  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

authentic  Mateo,  when  an  urchin,  used  to  be  an  attentive 
listener  to  the  narratives  of  his  grandfather,  and  of  the 
gossiping  group  assembled  round  the  shopboard,  and  is 
thus  possessed  of  a  stock  of  valuable  knowledge  concern- 
ing the  Alhambra,  not  to  be  found  in  books,  and  well 
worthy  the  attention  of  everj^  curious  traveller. 

Such  are  the  personages  that  constitute  my  regal 
household ;  and  I  question  whether  any  of  the  poten- 
tates, Moslem  or  Christian,  who  have  preceded  me  in 
the  palace,  have  been  waited  upon  with  greater  fidelity, 
or  enjoyed  a  serener  sway. 

When  I  rise  in  the  morning,  Pepe,  the  stuttering  lad 
from  the  gardens,  brings  me  a  tribute  of  fresh-culled 
flowers,  which  are  afterwards  arranged  in  vases  by  the 
skilful  hand  of  Dolores,  who  takes  a  feminine  pride  in 
the  decoration  of  my  chambers.  My  meals  are  made 
wherever  caprice  dictates ;  sometimes  in  one  of  the  Moor- 
ish halls,  sometimes  under  the  arcades  of  the  court  of 
Lions,  surrounded  by  flowers  and  fountains  :  and  when  I 
walk  out,  I  am  conducted  by  the  assiduous  Mateo  to  the 
most  romantic  retreats  of  the  mountains,  and  delicious 
haunts  of  the  adjacent  valleys,  not  one  of  which  but  is 
the  scene  of  some  wonderful  tale. 

Though  fond  of  passing  the  greater  part  of  my  day 
alone,  yet  I  occasionally  repair  in  the  evenings  to  the 
little  domestic  circle  of  Dona  Antonia.  This  is  generally 
held  in  an  old  Moorish  chamber,  which  serves  the  good 
dame  for  parlor,  kitchen,  and  hall  of  audience,  and  which 


THE  LEVEE  OF  TIA  ANTONIA,  79 

must  have  boasted  of  some  splendor  in  the  time  of  the 
Moors,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  traces  yet  remaining ; 
but  a  rude  fireplace  has  been  made  in  modern  times  in 
one  corner,  the  smoke  from  which  has  discolored  the 
walls,  and  almost  obliterated  the  ancient  arabesques.  A 
window,  with  a  balcony  overhanging  the  valley  of  the 
Darro,  lets  in  the  cool  evening  breeze  ;  and  here  I  take 
my  frugal  supper  of  fruit  and  milk,  and  mingle  with  the 
^conversation  of  the  family.  There  is  a  natural  talent  or 
mother-wit,  as  it  is  called,  about  the  Spaniards,  which 
renders  them  intellectual  and  agreeable  companions, 
whatever  may  be  their  condition  in  life,  or  however  im- 
perfect may  have  been  their  education :  add  to  this,  they 
are  never  vulgar  ;  nature  has  endowed  them  with  an  in- 
herent dignity  of  spirit.  The  good  Tia  Antonia  is  a 
woman  of  strong  and  intelligent,  though  uncultivated 
mind  ;  and  the  bright-eyed  Dolores,  though  she  has  read 
but  three  or  four  books  in  the  whole  course  of  her  life, 
has  an  engaging  mixture  of  naivete  and  good  sense,  and 
often  surprises  me  by  the  pungency  of  her  artless  sallies. 
Sometimes  the  nephew  entertains  us  by  reading  some 
old  comedy  of  Calderon  or  Lope  de  Vega,  to  which  he  is 
evidently  prompted  by  a  desire  to  improve  as  well  as 
am_use  his  cousin  Dolores  ;  though,  to  his  great  mortifi- 
cation, the  little  damsel  generally  falls  asleep  before  the 
first  act  is  completed.  Sometimes  Tia  Antonia  has  a 
little  levee  of  humble  friends  and  dependants,  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  adjacent  hamlet,  or  the  wives  of  the  invalid 


80  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

soldiers.  These  look  up  to  her  with  great  deference,  as 
the  costodian  of  the  palace,  and  pay  their  court  to  her 
by  bringing  the  news  of  the  place,  or  the  rumors  that 
may  have  straggled  up  from  Granada.  In  listening  to 
these  evening  gossipings  I  have  picked  up  many  curious 
facts  illustrative  of  the  manners  of  the  people  and  the 
peculiarities  of  the  neighborhood. 

These  are  simple  details  of  simple  pleasures  ;  it  is  the 
nature  of  the  place  alone  that  gives  them  interest  and 
impois'tance.  I  tread  haunted  ground,  and  am  surrounded 
by  romantic  associations.  From  earliest  boyhood,  when, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  I  first  pored  over  the  pages 
of  old  Gines  Perez  de  Hytas's  apocryphal  but  chival- 
resque  history  of  the  civil  wars  of  Granada,  and  the  feuds 
of  its  gallant  cavaliers,  the  Zegries  and  Abencerrages, 
that  ^ity  has  ever  been  a  subject  of  my  waking  dreams ; 
and  often  have  I  trod  in  fancy  the  romantic  halls  of  the 
Alhsmbra.  Behold  for  once  a  day-dream  realized  ;  yet  I 
can  scarce  credit  my  senses,  or  believe  that  I  do  indeed 
inhabit  the  palace  of  Boabdil,  and  look  down  from  its 
balconies  upon  chivalric  Granada.  As  I  loiter  through 
these  Oriental  chambers,  and  hear  the  murmur  of  foun- 
tains and  the  song  of  the  nightingale  ;  as  I  inhale  the 
odor  of  the  rose,  and  feel  the  influence  of  the  balmy 
climate,  I  am  almost  tempted  to  fancy  myself  in  the  para- 
dise of  Mahomet,  and  that  the  plump  little  Dolores  is 
one  of  the  bright-eyed  houris,  destined  to  administer  to 
the  happiness  of  true  believers. 


INHABITANTS  OF  THE  ALHAMBEA. 


HAVE  often  observed  that  tlie  more  proudly  a 
mansion  has. been  tenanted  in  the  day  of  its 
prosperity,  the  humbler  are  its  inhabitants  in 
the  day  of  its  decline,  and  that  the  palace  of  a  king  com- 
monly ends  in  being  the  nestling-place  of  the  beggar. 

The  Alhambra  is  in  a  rapid  state  of  similar  transition. 
Whenever  a  tower  falls  to  decay,  it  is  seized  upon  by 
some  tatterdemalion  family,  who  become  joint-tenants, 
with  the  bats  and  owls,  of  its  gilded  halls;  and  hang 
their  rags,  those  standards  of  poverty,  out  of  its  windows 
and  loopholes. 

I  have  amused  myself  with  remarking  some  of  the  mot- 
ley characters  that  have  thus  usurped  the  ancient  abode 
of  royalty,  and  who  seem  as  if  placed  here  to  give  a  farci- 
cal termination  to  the  drama  of  human  pride.  One  of 
these  even  bears  the  mockery  of  a  regal  title.  It  is  a 
little  old  woman  named  Maria  Antonia  Sabonea,  but  who 
goes  by  the  appellation  of  la  Beyna  Coquina,  or  the 
Cockle-queen.  She  is  small  enough  to  be  a  fairy ;  and  a 
fairy  she  may  be  for  aught  I  can  find  out,  for  no  one 
seems  to  know  her  origin.  Her  habitation  is  in  a  kind  of 
6  81 


82  TSE  ALHAMBBA, 

closet  under  the  outer  staircase  of  tlie  palace,  and  she 
sits  in  the  cool  stone  corridor,  plying  her  needle  and 
singing  from  morning  till  night,  with  a  ready  joke  for 
every  one  that  passes ;  for  though  one  of  the  poorest,  she 
is  one  of  the  merriest  little  women  breathing.  Her  great 
merit  is  a  gift  for  story-telling,  having,  I  verily  believe, 
as  many  stories  at  her  command  as  the  inexhaustible 
Scheherezade  of  the  Thousand  and  One  Nights.  Some 
of  these  I  have  heard  her  relate  in  the  evening  tertulias 
of  Dame  Antonia,  at  which  she  is  occasionally  a  humble 
attendant. 

That  there  must  be  some  fairy  gift  about  this  mysteri- 
ous little  old  woman,  would  appear  from  her  extraordi- 
nary luck,  since,  notwithstanding  her  being  very  little, 
very  ugly,  and  very  poor,  she  has  had,  according  to  her 
own  account,  ^^q  husbands  and  a  half,  reckoning  as  a 
half  one  a  young  dragoon,  who  died  during  courtship.  A 
rival  personage  to  this  little  fairy  queen  is  a  portly  old 
fellow  with  a  bottle-nose,  who  goes  about  in  a  rusty  garb, 
with  a  cocked  hat  of  oil-skin  and  a  red  cockade.  He  is 
one  of  the  legitimate  sons  of  the  Alhambra,  and  has  lived 
here  all  his  life,  filling  various  offices,  such  as  deputy  al- 
guazil,  sexton  of  the  parochial  church,  and  marker  of  a 
fives-court,  established  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  towers. 
He  is  as  poor  as  a  rat,  but  as  proud  as  he  is  ragged, 
boasting  of  his  descent  from  the  illustrious  house  of 
Aguilar,  from  which  sprang  Gonzalvo  of  Cordova,  the 
grand    captain.      Nay,  he    actually  bears    the   name    of 


THE  FAMILY  OF  MATEO.  .  83 

Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  so  renowned  in  the  history  of  the  Con- 
quest ;  though  the  graceless  wags  of  the  fortress  have 
given  him  the  title  of  el  padre  santo,  or  the  holy  father, 
the  usual  appellation  of  the  Pope,  which  I  had  thought 
too  sacred  in  the  eyes  of  true  Catholics  to  be  thus  ludi- 
crously applied.  It  is  a  whimsical  caprice  of  fortune  to 
present,  in  the  grotesque  person  of  this  tatterdemalion,  a 
namesake  and  descendant  of  the  proud  Alonzo  de  Agui- 
lar, the  mirror  of  Andalusian  chivalry,  leading  an  almost 
mendicant  existence  about  this  once  haughty  fortress, 
which  his  ancestor  aided  to  reduce;  yet  such  might 
have  been  the  lot  of  the  descendants  of  Agamemnon  and 
Achilles,  had  they  lingered  about  the  ruins  of  Troy  ! 

Of  this  motley  community,  I  find  the  family  of  my  gos- 
siping squire,  Mateo  Ximenes,  to  form,  from  their  num- 
bers at  least,  a  very  important  part.  His  boast  of  being 
a  son  of  the  Alhambra  is  not  unfounded.  His  family  has 
inhabited  the  fortress  ever  since  the  time  of  the  Con- 
quest, handing  down  an  hereditary  poverty  from  father 
to  son ;  not  one  of  them  having  ever  been  known  to  be 
worth  a  maravedi.  His  father,  by  trade  a  ribbon-weaver, 
and  who  succeeded  the  historical  tailor  as  the  head  of 
the  family,  is  now  near  seventy  years  of  age,  and  lives  in 
a  hovel  of  reeds  and  plaster,  built  by  his  own  hands,  just 
above  the  iron  gate.  The  furniture  consists  of  a  crazy 
bed,  a  table,  and  two  or  three  chairs;  a  wooden  chest, 
containing,  besides  his  scanty  clothing,  the  "  archives  of 
the  family."     These  are  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the 


84  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

papers  of  various  lawsuits  sustained  by  different  genera- 
tions ;  by  wliicli  it  would  seem  that,  with  all  their  appa- 
rent carelessness  and  good-humor,  they  are  a  litigious 
brood.  Most  of  the  suits  have  been  brought  against 
gossiping  neighbors  for  questioning  the  purity  of  their 
blood,  and  denying  their  being  Christianos  viejos,  i.  e.  old 
Christians,  without  Jewish  or  Moorish  taint.  In  fact,  I 
doubt  whether  this  jealousy  about  their  blood  has  not 
kept  them  so  poor  in  purse  :  spending  all  their  earnings 
on  escribanos  and  alguazils.  The  pride  of  the  hovel  is 
an  escutcheon  suspended  against  the  wall,  in  which  are 
emblazoned  quarterings  of  the  arms  of  the  Marquis  of 
Caiesedo,  and  of  various  other  noble  houses,  with  which 
this  poverty-stricken  brood  claim  affinity. 

As  to  Mateo  himself,  who  is  now  about  thirty-five 
years  of  age,  he  has  done  his  utmost  to  perpetuate  his 
line  and  continue  the  poverty  of  the  family,  having  a 
wife  and  a  numerous  progeny,  who  inhabit  an  almost 
dismantled  hovel  in  the  hamlet.  How  they  manage  to 
subsist,  he  only  who  sees  into  all  mysteries  can  tell ;  the 
subsistence  of  a  Spanish  family  of  the  kind  is  always  a 
riddle  to  me  ;  yet  they  do  subsist,  and  what  is  more, 
appear  to  enjoy  their  existence.  The  wife  takes  her 
holiday  stroll  on  the  Paseo  of  Granada,  with  a  child  in 
her  arms  and  half  a  dozen  at  her  heels ;  and  the  eldest 
daughter,  now  verging  into  womanhood,  dresses  her  hair 
with  flowers,  and  dances  gayly  to  the  castanets. 

There  are  two  classes  of  people  to  whom  life  seems 


THE  ART  OF  BEING  IDLE.  85 

one  long  holiday, — the  very  rich  and  the  very  poor  ;  one, 
because  they  need  do  nothing ;  the  other,  because  they 
have  nothing  to  do  ;  but  there  are  none  who  understand 
the  art  of  doing  nothing  and  living  upon  nothing,  better 
than  the  poor  classes  of  Spain.  Climate  does  one  half, 
and  temperament  the  rest.  Give  a  Spaniard  the  shade 
in  summer  and  the  sun  in  winter,  a  little  bread,  garlic, 
oil,  and  garbances,  an  old  brown  cloak  and  a  guitar,  and 
let  the  world  roll  on  as  it  pleases.  Talk  of  poverty ! 
with  him  it  has  no  disgrace.  It  sits  upon  him  with  a 
grandiose  style,  like  his  ragged  cloak.  He  is  a  hidalgo, 
even  when  in  rags. 

The  "  sons  of  the  Alhambra "  are  an  eminent  illus- 
tration of  this  practical  philosophy.  As  the  Moors 
imagined  that  the  celestial  paradise  hung  over  this 
favored  spot,  so  I  am  inclined  at  times  to  fancy  that  a 
gleam  of  the  golden  age  still  lingers  about  this  ragged 
community.  They  possess  nothing,  they  do  nothing, 
they  care  for  nothing.  Yet,  though  apparently  idle  all 
the  week,  they  are  as  observant  of  all  holy  days  and 
saints'  days  as  the  most  laborious  artisan.  They  attend 
all  fetes  and  dancings  in  Granada  and  its  vicinity,  light 
bonfires  on  the  hills  on  St.  John's  eve,  and  dance  away 
the  moonlight  nights  on  the  harvest-home  of  a  small 
field  within  the  precincts  of  the  fortress,  which  yield  a 
few  bushels  of  wheat. 

Before  concluding  these  remarks,  I  must  mention  one 
of  the  amusements  of  the  place,  which  has  particularly 


86  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

struck  me.  I  liad  repeatedly  observed  a  long  lean  fellow 
perched  on  the  top  of  one  of  the  towers,  manoeuvring 
two  or  three  fishing-rods,  as  though  he  were  angling  for 
the  stars.  I  was  for  some  time  perplexed  by  the  evolu- 
tions of  this  aerial  fisherman,  and  my  perplexity  in- 
creased on  observing  others  employed  in  like  manner  on 
different  parts  of  the  battlements  and  bastions  ;  it  was 
not  until  I  consulted  Mateo  Ximenes  that  I  solved  the 
mystery. 

It  seems  that  the  pure  and  airy  situation  of  this  for- 
tress has  rendered  it,  like  the  castle  of  Macbeth,  a  proli- 
fic breeding-place  for  swallows  and  martlets,  who  sport 
about  its  towers  in  myriads,  with  the  holiday  glee  of 
urchins  just  let  loose  from  school.  To  entrap  these  birds 
in  their  giddy  circlings,  with  hooks  baited  with  flies,  is 
one  of  the  favorite  amusements  of  the  ragged  *'  sons  of 
the  Alhambra,"  who,  with  the  good-for-nothing  ingenuity 
of  arrant  idlers,  have  thus  invented  the  art  of  angling  in 
the  sky. 


THE    HALL    OF    AMBASSADORS. 

N  one  of  my  yisits  to  the  old  Moorish  chamber 
where  the  good  Tia  Antonia  cooks  her  dinner 
and  receives  her  company,  I  observed  a  myste- 
rious door  in  one  corner,  leading  apparently  into  the 
ancient  part  of  the  edifice.  My  curiosity  being  aroused,  I 
opened  it,  and  found  myself  in  a  narrow,  blind  corridor, 
groping  along  which  I  came  to  the  head  of  a  dark  wind- 
ing staircase,  leading  down  an  angle  of  the  tower  of 
Comares.  Down  this  staircase  I  descended  darkling, 
guiding  myself  by  the  wall  until  I  came  to  a  small  door 
at  the  bottom,  throwing  which  open,  I  was  suddenly 
dazzled  by  emerging  into  the  brilliant  antechamber  of 
the  Hall  of  Ambassadors ;  with  the  fountain  of  the  court 
of  the  Alberca  sparkling  before  me.  The  antechamber  is 
separated  from  the  court  by  an  elegant  gallery,  supported 
by  slender  columns  with  spandrels  of  open  work  in  the 
Morisco  style.  At  each  end  of  the  antechamber  are 
alcoves,  and  its  ceiling  is  richly  stuccoed  and  painted. 
Passing  through  a  magnificent  portal,  I  found  myself  in 
the  far-famed  Hall  of  Ambassadors,  the  audience  cham- 
ber of  the  Moslem  monarchs.     It  is  said  to  be  thirty- 

87 


88  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

seven  feet  square,  and  sixty  feet  high;  occupies  the 
whole  interior  of  the  Tower  of  Comares ;  and  still  bears 
the  traces  of  past  magnificence.  The  walls  are  beautiful- 
ly stuccoed  and  decorated  with  Morisco  fancifulness ;  the 
lofty  ceiling  was  originally  of  the  same  favorite  material, 
with  the  usual  frostwork  and  pensile  ornaments  or  stalca- 
tites ;  which,  with  the  embellishments  of  vivid  coloring 
and  gilding,  must  have  been  gorgeous  in  the  extreme. 
Unfortunately  it  gave  way  during  an  earthquake,  and 
brought  down  with  it  an  immense  arch  which  traversed 
the  hall.  It  was  replaced  by  the  present  vault  or  dome 
of  larch  or  cedar,  with  intersecting  ribs,  the  whole  curi- 
ously wrought  and  richly  colored;  still  Oriental  in  its 
character,  reminding  one  of  "  those  ceilings  of  cedar  and 
vermilion  that  we  read  of  in  the  Prophets  and  the  Ara- 
bian Nights."  ^ 

From  the  great  height  of  the  vault  above  the  windows, 
the  upper  part  of  the  hall  is  almost  lost  in  obscurity ;  yet 
there  is  a  magnificence  as  well  as  solemnity  in  the  gloom, 
as  through  it  we  have  gleams  of  rich  gilding  and  the 
brilliant  tints  of  the  Moorish  pencil. 

The  royal  throne  was  placed  opposite  the  entrance  in  a 
recess,  which  still  bears  an  inscription  intimating  that  Yu- 
sef  I.  (the  monarch  who  completed  the  Alhambra)  made 
this  the  throne  of  his  empire.  Everything  in  this  noble 
hall  seems  to  have  been  calculated  to  surround  the  throne 

*  Urquhart's  Pillars  of  Hercules. 


THE  HALL   OF  AMBASSADORS.  80 

with  impressive  dignity  and  splendor  ;  there  was  none  of 
the  elegant  voluptuousness  which  reigns  in  other  parts  of 
the  palace.  The  tower  is  of  massive  strength,  domineer- 
ing over  the  whole  edifice  and  overhanging  the  steep  hill- 
side. On  three  sides  of  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors  are 
windows  cut  through  the  immense  thickness  of  the  walls 
and  commanding  extensive  prospects.  The.  balcony  of 
the  central  window  especially  looks  down  upon  the  ver- 
dant valley  of  the  Darro,  with  its  walks,  its  groves, 
and  gardens.  To  the  left  it  enjoys  a  distant  prospect  of 
the  Yega ;  while  directly  in  front  rises  the  rival  height 
of  the  Albaycin,  with  its  medley  of  streets,  and  terraces, 
and  gardens,  and  once  crowned  by  a  fortress  that  vied  in 
power  with  the  Alhambra.  "  111  fated  the  man  who  lost 
all  this  !  "  exclaimed  Charles  Y.,  as  he  looked  forth  from 
this  window  upon  the  enchanting  scenery  it  commands. 

The  balcony  of  the  window  where  this  royal  exclama- 
tion was  made,  has  of  late  become  one  of  my  favorite  re- 
sorts. I  have  just  been  seated  there,  enjoying  the  close 
of  a  long  brilliant  day.  The  sun,  as  he  sank  behind  the 
purple  mountains  of  Alhama,  sent  a  stream  of  effulgence 
up  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  that  spread  a  melancholy 
pomp  over  the  ruddy  towers  of  the  Alhambra ;  while  the 
Yega,  covered  v/ith  a  slight  sultry  vapor  that  caught  the 
setting  ray,  seemed  spread  out  in  the  distance  like  a 
golden  sea.  Not  a  breath  of  air  disturbed  the  stillness 
of  the  hour,  and  though  the  faint  sound  of  music  and 
merriment  now  and  then  rose  from  the  gardens  of  the 


90  THE  ALHAMBRA, 

Darro,  it  but  rendered  more  impressive  the  monumental 
silence  of  the  pile  wliich  overshadowed  me.  It  was  one 
of  those  hours  and  scenes  in  which  memory  asserts  an 
almost  magical  power :  and,  like  the  evening  sun  beam- 
ing on  these  mouldering  towers,  sends  back  her  retro- 
spective rays  to  light  up  the  glories  of  the  past. 

As  I  sat  watching  the  effect  of  the  declining  daylight 
upon  this  Moorish  pile,  I  was  led  into  a  consideration  of 
the  light,  elegant,  and  voluptuous  character  prevalent 
throughout  its  internal  architecture,  and  to  contrast  it 
with  the  grand  but  gloomy  solemnity  of  the  Gothic  edi- 
fices reared  by  the  Spanish  conquerors.  The  very  archi- 
tecture thus  bespeaks  the  opposite  and  irreconcilable 
natures  of  the  two  warlike  people  who  so  long  battled 
here  for  the  mastery  of  the  Peninsula.  By  degrees  I  fell 
into  a  course  of  musing  upon  the  singular  fortunes  of  the 
Arabian  or  Morisco-Spaniards,  whose  whole  existence  is 
as  a  tale  that  is  told,  and  certainly  forms  one  of  the  most 
anomalous  yet  splendid  episodes  in  history.  Potent  and 
durable  as  was  their  dominion,  we  scarcely  know  how  to 
call  them.  They  were  a  nation  without  a  legitimate 
country  or  name.  A  remote  wave  of  the  great  Arabian 
inundation,  cast  upon  the  shores  of  Europe,  they  seem  to 
have  all  the  impetus  of  the  first  rush  of  the  torrent. 
Their  career  of  conquest,  from  the  rock  of  Gibraltar  to 
the  cliffs  of  the  Pyrenees,  was  as  rapid  and  brilliant  as 
the  Moslem  victories  of  Syria  and  Egypt.  Nay,  had  they 
not  been  checked  on  the  plains  of  Tours,  all  France,  all 


THE  MOSLEMS  OF  SPAIN.  91 

Europe,  might  have  been  overrun  with  the  same  facility 
as  the  empires  of  the  East,  and  the  Crescent  at  this  day 
have  glittered  on  the  fanes  of  Paris  and  London. 

Eepelled  within  the  limits  of  the  Pyrenees,  the  mixed 
hordes  of  Asia  and  Africa,  that  formed  this  great  irrup- 
tion, gave  up  the  Moslem  principle  of  conquest,  and 
sought  to  establish  in  Spain  a  peaceful  and  permanent 
dominion.  As  conquerors,  their  heroism  was  only 
equalled  by  their  moderation;  and  in  both,  for  a  time, 
they  excelled  the  nations  with  whom  they  contended. 
Severed  from  their  native  homes,  they  loved  the  land 
given  them  as  they  supposed  by  Allah,  and  strove  to 
embellish  it  with  everything  that  could  administer  to 
the  happiness  of  man.  Laying  the  foundations  of  their 
power  in  a  system  of  wise  and  equitable  laws,  diligently 
cultivating  the  arts  and  sciences,  and  promoting  agricul- 
ture, manufactures,  and  commerce,  they  gradually  formed 
an  empire  unrivalled  for  its  prosperity  by  any  of  the 
empires  of  Christendom;  and  diligently  drawing  round 
them  the  graces  and  refinements  which  marked  the 
Arabian  empire  in  the  East,  at  the  time  of  its  greatest 
civilization,  they  diffused  the  light  of  Oriental  knowledge 
through  the  western  regions  of  benighted  Europe. 

The  cities  of  Arabian  Spain  became  the  resort  of 
Christian  artisans,  to  instruct  themselves  in  the  useful 
arts.  The  universities  of  Toledo,  Cordova,  Seville,  and 
Granada  were  sought  by  the  pale  student  from  other 
lands  to  acquaint  himself  with  the  sciences  of  the  Arabs 


92  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  the  treasured  lore  of  antiquity ;  the  lovers  of  the  gay 
science  resorted  to  Cordova  and  Granada,  to  imbibe  the 
poetry  and  music  of  the  East ;  and  the  steel-clad  warriors 
of  the  North  hastened  thither  to  accomplish  themselves 
in  the  graceful  exercises  and  courteous  usages  of  chivalry. 

If  the  Moslem  monuments  in  Spain,  if  the  Mosque  of 
Cordova,  the  Alcazar  of  Seville,  and  the  Alhambra  of 
Granada,  still  bear  inscriptions  fondly  boasting  of  the 
power  and  permanency  of  their  dominion,  can  the  boast 
be  derided  as  arrogant  and  vain  ?  Generation  after  gen- 
eration, century  after  century,  passed  away,  and  still  they 
maintained  possession  of  the  land.  A  period  elapsed 
longer  than  that  which  has  passed  since  England  was 
subjugated  by  the  Norman  Conqueror,  and  the  descend- 
ants of  Musa  and  Taric  might  as  little  anticipate  being- 
driven  into  exile  across  the  same  straits,  traversed  by 
their  triumphant  ancestors,  as  the  descendants  of  RoUo 
and  William,  and  their  veteran  peers,  may  dream  of  be- 
ing driven  back  to  the  shores  of  Normandy. 

With  all  this,  however,  the  Moslem  empire  in  Spain 
was  but  a  brilliant  exotic,  that  took  no  permanent  root  in 
the  soil  it  embellished.  Severed  from  all  their  neigh- 
bors in  the  West  by  impassable  barriers  of  faith  and 
manners,  and  separated  by  seas  and  deserts  from  their 
kindred  of  the  East,  the  Morisco-Spaniards  were  an  iso- 
lated people.  Their  whole  existence  was  a  prolonged, 
though  gallant  and  chivalric  struggle  for  a  foothold  in  a 
usurped  land. 


MOSLEM  MONUMENTS.  93 

They  were  the  outposts  and  frontiers  of  Islamism. 
The  Peninsula  was  the  great  battle-ground  where  the 
Gothic  conquerors  of  the  North  and  the  Moslem  con- 
querors of  the  East  met  and  strove  for  mastery  ;  and  the 
fiery  courage  of  the  Arab  was  at  length  subdued  by  the 
obstinate  and  persevering  valor  of  the  Goth. 

Never  was  the  annihilation  of  a  people  more  complete 
than  that  of  the  Morisco-Spaniards.  Where  are  they  ? 
Ask  the  shores  of  Barbary  and  its  desert  places.  The 
exiled  remnant  of  their  once  powerful  empire  disap- 
peared among  the  barbarians  of  Africa,  and  ceased  to  be 
a  nation.  They  have  not  even  left  a  distinct  name  be- 
hind them,  though  for  nearly  eight  centuries  they  were  a 
distinct  people.  The  home  of  their  adoption,  and  of 
their  occupation  for  ages,  refuses  to  acknowledge  them, 
except  as  invaders  and  usurpers.  A  few  broken  monu- 
ments are  all  that  remain  to  bear  witness  to  their  power 
and  dominion,  as  solitary  rocks,  left  far  in  the  interior, 
bear  testimony  to  the  extent  of  some  vast  inundation. 
Such  is  the  Alhambra ; — a  Moslem  pile  in  the  midst  of  a 
Christian  land ;  an  Oriental  palace  amidst  the  Gothic 
edifices  of  the  West ;  an  elegant  memento  of  a  brave,  in- 
telligent, and  graceful  people,  who  conquered,  ruled, 
flourished,  and  passed  awaj. 


THE    JESUITS'   LIBRARY. 

INCE  indulging  in  the  foregoing  reverie,  my 
curiosity  has  been  aroused  to  know  something 
of  the  princes  who  left  behind  them  this  monu- 
ment of  Oriental  taste  and  magnificence, — and  whose 
names  still  appear  among  the  inscriptions  on  its  walls. 
To  gratify  this  curiosity,  I  have  descended  from  this 
region  of  fancy  and  fable,  where  everything  is  liable  to 
take  an  imaginary  tint,  and  have  carried  my  researches 
among  the  dusty  tomes  of  the  old  Jesuits'  Library,  in 
the  University.  This  once  boasted  repository  of  erudi- 
tion is  now  a  mere  shadow  of  its  former  self,  having  been 
stripped  of  its  manuscripts  and  rarest  works  by  the 
French,  when  masters  of  Granada;  still  it  contains, 
among  many  ponderous  tomes  of  the  Jesuit  fathers, 
which  the  French  were  careful  to  leave  behind,  several 
curious  tracts  of  Spanish  literature  ;  and  above  all,  a 
number  of  those  antiquated  parchment-bound  chronicles 
for  which  I  have  a  particular  veneration. 

In  this  old  library  I  have  passed  many  delightful 
hours  of  quiet,  undisturbed,  literary  foraging;  for  the 
keys  of  the  doors  and  bookcases  were  kindly  intrusted  to 

94 


THE  JESUITS'  LIBRARY.  95 

me,  and  I  was  left  alone,  to  rummage  at  my  pleasure,— 
a  rare  indulgence  in  these  sanctuaries  of  learning,  which 
too  often  tantalize  the  thirsty  student  with  the  sight  of 
sealed  fountains  of  knowledge. 

In  the  course  of  these  visits  I  gleaned  a  variety  of 
facts  concerning  historical  characters  connected  with  the 
Alhambra,  some  of  which  I  here  subjoin,  trusting  they 
may  prove  acceptable  to  the  reader. 


ALHAMAR,  THE  FOUNDER  OF  THE 
ALHAMBRA. 

HE  Moors  of  Granada  regarded  the  Alhambra 
as  a  miracle  of  art,  and  had  a  tradition  that  the 
king  who  founded  it  dealt  in  magic,  or  at  least 
in  alchemy,  by  means  whereof  he  procured  the  immense 
sums  of  gold  expended  in  its  erection.  A  brief  yiew  of 
his  reign  will  show  the  secret  of  his  wealth.  He  is 
known  in  Arabian  history  as  Muhamed  Ibn-1-Ahmar; 
but  his  name  in  general  is  written  simply  Alhamar,  and 
was  given  to  him,  we  are  told,  on  account  of  his  ruddy 
complexion.* 

He  was  of  the  noble  and  opulent  line  of  the  Beni  Na- 
sar,  or  tribe  of  Nasar,  and  was  born  in  Arjona,  in  the 
year  of  the  Hegira  592  (a.  d.  1195).  At  his  birth  the 
astrologers,  we  are  told,  cast  his  horoscope  according  to 
Oriental  custom,  and  pronounced  it  highly  auspicious; 
and  a  santon  predicted  for  him  a  glorious  career.     No 

*  Et  porque  era  muy  rubio  llamaban  lo  los  Moros  Abenalhamar,  que 
quiere  decir  bermejo  .  .  .  .  et  porque  los  Moros  lo  llamaban  Benalhamar 
que  quiere  deeir  bermejo  tomo  los  senales  bermejos,  segun  que  los  ovieron 
despues  los  Reyes  de  Granada. — Bled  a,  Cronica  de  Alfonso  XL,  F,  L 
C,  44. 

96 


ALHAMAB.  97 

expense  was  spared  in  fitting  him  for  the  high  destinies 
prognosticated.  Before  he  attained  the  full  years  of 
manhood,  the  famous  battle  of  the  Navas  (or  plains)  of 
Tolosa  shattered  the  Moorish  empire,  and  eventually 
severed  the  Moslems  of  Spain  from  the  Moslems  of 
Africa.  Factions  soon  arose  among  the  former,  headed 
by  warlike  chiefs  ambitious  of  grasping  the  sovereignty 
of  the  Peninsula.  Alhamar  became  engaged  in  these 
wars ;  he  was  the  general  and  leader  of  the  Beni  Nasar, 
and,  as  such,  he  opposed  and  thwarted  the  ambition  of 
Aben  Hud,  who  had  raised  his  standard  among  the  war- 
like mountains  of  the  Alpuxaras,  and  been  proclaimed 
king  of  Murcia  and  Granada.  Many  conflicts  took  place 
between  these  warring  chieftains  ;  Alhamar  dispossessed 
his  rival  of  several  important  places,  and  was  proclaimed 
king  of  Jaen  by  his  soldiery  ;  but  he  aspired  to  the  sove- 
reignty of  the  whole  of  Andalusia,  for  he  was  of  a  san- 
guine spirit  and  lofty  ambition.  His  valor  and  gene- 
rosity went  hand  in  hand;  what  he  gained  by  the  one 
he  secured  by  the  other ;  and  at  the  death  of  Aben  Hud 
(a.  d.  1238)  he  became  sovereign  of  all  the  territories 
which  owed  allegiance  to  that  powerful  chief.  He  made 
his  formal  entry  into  Granada  in  the  same  year,  amid 
the  enthusiastic  shouts  of  the  multitude,  who  hailed  him 
as  the  only  one  capable  of  uniting  the  various  factions 
which  prevailed,  and  which  threatened  to  lay  the  empire 
at  the  mercy  of  the  Christian  princes. 

Alhamar  established  his  court  in  Granada  ;  he  was  the 

7 


98  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

first  of  the  illustrious  line  of  Nasar  that  sat  upon  a 
throne.  He  took  immediate  measures  to  put  his  little 
kingdom  in  a  posture  of  defence  against  the  assaults  to 
be  expected  from  his  Christian  neighbors,  repairing  and 
strengthening  the  frontier  posts  and  fortifying  the  capi- 
tal. Not  content  with  the  provisions  of  the  Moslem  law, 
by  which  every  man  is  made  a  soldier,  he  raised  a  regu- 
lar army  to  garrison  his  strongholds,  allowing  every 
soldier  stationed  on  the  frontier  a  portion  of  land  for  the 
support  of  himself,  his  horse,  and  his  family, — thus  in- 
teresting him  in  the  defence  of  the  soil  in  which  he  had 
a  property.  These  wise  precautions  were  justified  by 
events.  The  Christians,  profiting  by  the  dismemberment 
of  the  Moslem  power,  were  rapidly  regaining  their 
ancient  territories.  James  the  Conqueror  had  subjected 
all  Valencia,  and  Ferdinand  the  Saint  sat  down  in  person 
before  Jaen,  the  bulwark  of  Granada.  Alhamar  ventured 
to  oppose  him  in  open  field,  but  met  with  a  signal  defeat, 
and  retired  discomfited  to  his  capital.  Jaen  still  held 
out,  and  kept  the  enemy  at  bay  during  an  entire  winter, 
but  Ferdinand  swore  not  to  raise  his  camp  until  he  had 
gained  possession  of  the  place.  Alhamar  found  it  impos- 
sible to  throw  reinforcements  into  the  besiged  city;  he 
saw  that  its  fall  must  be  followed  by  the  investment  of 
his  capital,  and  was  conscious  of  the  insufficiency  of  his 
means  to  cope  with  the  potent  sovereign  of  Castile.  Tak- 
ing a  sudden  resolution,  therefore,  he  repaired  privately 
to  the  Christian  camp,  made  his  unexpected  appearance 


ALRAMAR.  99 

in  the  presence  of  King  Ferdinand,  and  frankly  an- 
nounced himself  as  the  king  of  Granada.  "I  come,"  said 
he,  "confiding  in  jonr  good  faith,  to  put  myself  under 
your  protection.  Take  all  I  possess  and  receive  me  as 
your  vassal ; "  so  saying,  he  knelt  and  kissed  the  king's 
hand  in  token  of  allegiance.   . 

Ferdinand  was  won  by  this  instance  of  confiding  faith, 
and  determined  not  to  be  outdone  in  generosity.  He 
raised  his  late  enemy  from  the  earth,  embraced  him  as  a 
friend,  and,  refusing  the  wealth  he  offered,  left  him  sove- 
reign of  his  dominions,  under  the  feudal  tenure  of  a 
yearly  tribute,  attendance  at  the  Cortes  as  one  of  the 
nobles  of  the  empire,  and  service  in  war  with  a  certain 
number  of  horsemen.  He  moreover  conferred  on  him  the 
honor  of  knighthood,  and  armed  him  with  his  own  hands. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  Alhamar  was  called 
upon  for  his  military  services,  to  aid  King  Ferdinand  in 
his  famous  siege  of  Seville.  The  Moorish  king  sallied 
forth  with  five  hundred  chosen  horsemen  of  Granada, 
than  whom  none  in  the  world  knew  better  how  to  man- 
age the  steed  or  wield  the  lance.  It  was  a  humiliating 
service,  however,  for  they  had  to  draw  the  sword  against 
their  brethren  of  the  faith. 

Alhamar  gained  a  melancholy  distinction  by  his  prow- 
ess in  this  renowned  conquest,  but  more  true  honor  by 
the  humanity  which  he  prevailed  upon  Ferdinand  to  in- 
troduce into  the  usages  of  war.  When  in  1248  the 
famous  city  of  Seville  surrendered  to  the  Castilian  men- 


100  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

arch,  Alhamar  returned  sad  and  full  of  care  to  his  domin- 
ions. He  saw  the  gathering  ills  that  menaced  the  Moslem 
cause ;  and  uttered  an  ejaculation  often  used  by  him  in 
moments  of  anxiety  and  trouble, — "How  straitened  and 
wretched  would  be  our  life,  if  our  hope  were  not  so  spa- 
cious and  extensive."  "Que  angoste  y  miserabile  seria 
nuestra  vida,  sino  fuera  tan  dilatada  y  espaciosa  nuestra 
esperanza ! " 

As  he  approached  Granada  on  his  return  he  beheld 
arches  of  triumph  which  had  been  erected  in  honor  of 
his  martial  exploits.  The  people  thronged  forth  to  see 
him  with  impatient  joy,  for  his  benignant  rule  had  won 
all  hearts.  Wherever  he  passed  he  was  hailed  with  ac- 
clamations as  "El  Ghalib  !  "  (the  conqueror).  Alhamar 
gave  a  melancholy  shake  of  the  head  on  hearing  the 
appellation.  "  Wa  le  ghalih  ih  Alah  I "  (there  is  no  con- 
queror but  God)  exclaimed  he.  From  that  time  forward 
this  exclamation  became  his  motto,  and  the  motto  of  his 
descendants,  and  appears  to  this  day  emblazoned  on  his 
escutcheons  in  the  halls  of  the  Alhambra. 

Alhamar  had  purchased  peace  by  submission  to  the 
Christian  yoke  ;  but  he  was  conscious  that,  with  ele- 
ments so  discordant  and  motives  for  hostility  so  deep 
and  ancient,  it  could  not  be  permanent.  Acting,  there- 
fore, upon  the  old  maxim,  "  Arm  thyself  in  peace  and 
clothe  thyself  in  summer,"  he  improved  the  present  in- 
terval of  tranquillity  by  fortifying  his  dominions,  replen- 
ishing his  arsenals,   and   promoting    those   useful   arts 


ALMAMAB.  101 

which  give  wealth  and  real  power.  He  confided  the 
command  of  his  various  cities  to  such  as  had  distin- 
guished  themselves  by  valor  and  prudence,  and  who 
seemed  most  acceptable  to  the  people.  He  organized  a 
vigilant  police,  and  established  rigid  rules  for  the  admin- 
istration  of  justice.  The  poor  and  the  distressed  always 
found  ready  admission  to  his  presence,  and  he  attended 
personally  to  their  assistance  and  redress.  He  erected 
hospitals  for  the  blind,  the  aged,  and  infirm,  and  all 
those  incapable  of  labor,  and  visited  them  frequently; 
not  on  set  days  with  pomp  and  form,  so  as  to  give  time 
for  everything  to  be  put  in  order,  and  every  abuse  con- 
cealed, but  suddenly,  and  unexpectedly,  informing  him- 
self, by  actual  observation  and  close  inquiry,  of  the  treat- 
ment of  the  sick,  and  the  conduct  of  those  appointed 
to  administer  to  their  relief.  He  founded  schools  and 
colleges,  which  he  visited  in  the  same  manner,  inspecting 
personally  the  instruction  of  the  youth.  He  established 
butcheries  and  public  ovens,  that  the  people  might  be 
furnished  with  wholesome  provisions  at  just  and  regular 
prices.  He  introduced  abundant  streams  of  water  into 
the  city,  erecting  baths  and  fountains,  and  constructing 
aqueducts  and  canals  to  irrigate  and  fertilize  the  Yega, 
By  these  means  prosperity  and  abundance  prevailed  in 
this  beautiful  city ;  its  gates  were  thronged  with  com- 
merce, and  its  warehouses  filled  with  luxuries  and  mer- 
chandise of  every  clime  and  country. 
He  moreover  gave  premiums  and  privileges  to  the  best 


102  THE  ALEAMBBA. 

artisans  ;  improved  the  breed  of  horses  and  other  do- 
mestic animals  ;  encouraged  husbandry ;  and  increased 
the  natural  fertility  of  the  soil  twofold  by  his  protection, 
making  the  lovely  valleys  of  his  kingdom  to  bloom  like 
gardens.  He  fostered  also  the  growth  and  fabrication  of 
silk,  until  the  looms  of  Granada  surpassed  even  those  of 
Syria  in  the  fineness  and  beauty  of  their  productions. 
He  moreover  caused  the  mines  of  gold  and  silver  and 
other  metals,  found  in  the  mountainous  regions  of  his 
dominions,  to  be  diligently  worked,  and  was  the  first 
king  of  Granada  who  struck  money  of  gold  and  silver 
with  his  name,  taking  great  care  that  the  coins  should 
be  skilfully  executed. 

It  was  towards  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
and  just  after  his  return  from  the  siege  of  Seville,  that 
he  commenced  the  splendid  palace  of  the  Alhambra; 
superintending  the  building  of  it  in  person;  mingling 
frequently  among  the  artists  and  workmen,  and  directing 
their  labors. 

Though  thus  magnificent  in  his  works  and  great  in 
his  enterprises,  he  was  simple  in  his  person  and  mode- 
rate in  his  enjoyments.  His  dress  was  not  merely  void 
of  splendor,  but  so  plain  as  not  to  distinguish  him  from 
his  subjects.  His  harem  boasted  but  few  beauties,  and 
these  he  visited  but  seldom,  though  they  were  enter- 
tained with  great  magnificence.  His  wives  were  daugh- 
ters of  the  principal  nobles,  and  were  treated  by  him 
as  friends   and    rational   companions.      What  is   more, 


ALHAMAR.  103 

lie  managed  to  make  them  live  in  friendship  with  one 
another.  He  passed  much  of  his  time  in  his  gardens; 
especially  in  those  of  the  Alhambra,  which  he  had  stored 
with  the  rarest  plants  and  the  most  beautiful  and  aro- 
matic flowers.  Here  he  delighted  himself  in  reading 
histories,  or  in  causing  them  to  be  read  and  related  to 
him,  and  sometimes,  in  intervals  of  leisure,  employed 
himself  in  the  instruction  of  his  three  sons,  for  whom 
he  had  provided  the  most  learned  and  virtuous  masters. 

As  he  had  frankly  and  voluntarily  offered  himself  a 
tributary  vassal  to  Ferdinand,  so  he  always  remained 
loyal  to  his  word,  giving  him  repeated  proofs  of  fidelity 
and  attachment.  When  that  renowned  monarch  died  in 
Seville  in  1254,  Alhamar  sent  ambassadors  to  condole 
with  his  successor,  Alonzo  X.,  and  with  them  a  gallant 
train  of  a  hundred  Moorish  cavaliers  of  distinguished 
rank,  who  were  to  attend  round  the  royal  bier  during 
the  funeral  ceremonies,  each  bearing  a  lighted  taper. 
This  grand  testimonial  of  respect  was  repeated  by  the 
Moslem  monarch  during  the  remainder  of  his  life  on 
each  anniversary  of  the  death  of  King  Ferdinand  el 
Santo,  when  the  hundred  Moorish  knights  repaired  from 
Granada  to  Seville,  and  took  their  stations  with  lighted 
tapers  in  the  centre  of  the  sumptuous  cathedral  round 
the  cenotaph  of  the  illustrious  deceased. 

Alhamar  retained  his  faculties  and  vigor  to  an  ad- 
vanced age.  In  his  seventy-ninth  year  (a.  d.  1272)  he 
took  the  field  on  horseback,  accompanied  by  the  flower 


104  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

of  his  chivalry,  to  resist  an  invasion  of  his  territories. 
As  the  army  sallied  forth  from  Granada,  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal adalides,  or  guides,  who  rode  in  the  advance,  acci- 
dentally broke  his  lance  against  the  arch  of  the  gate. 
The  counsellors  of  the  king,  alarmed  by  this  circum- 
stance, which  was  considered  an  evil  omen,  entreated 
him  to  return.  Their  supplications  were  in  vain.  The 
king  persisted,  and  at  noontide  the  omen,  say  the  Moor- 
ish chroniclers,  was  fatally  fulfilled.  Alhamar  was  sud- 
denly struck  with  illness,  and  had  nearly  fallen  from 
his  horse.  He  was  placed  on  a  litter,  and  borne  back 
towards  Granada,  but  his  illness  increased  to  such  a 
degree  that  they  were  obliged  to  pitch  his  tent  in  the 
Yega.  His  physicians  were  filled  with  consternation, 
not  knowing  what  remedy  to  prescribe.  In  a  few  hours 
he  died,  vomiting  blood  and  in  violent  convulsions.  The 
Castilian  prince,  Don  Philip,  brother  of  Alonzo  X.,  was 
by  his  side  when  he  expired.  His  body  was  embalmed, 
enclosed  in  a  silver  coffin,  and  buried  in  the  Alhambra 
in  a  sepulchre  of  precious  marble,  amidst  the  unfeigned 
lamentations  of  his  subjects,  who  bewailed  him  as  a 
parent 

I  have  said  that  he  was  the  first  of  the  illustrious  line 
of  Nasar  that  sat  upon  a  throne.  I  may  add  that  he 
was  the  founder  of  a  brilliant  kingdom  which  will  ever 
be  famous  in  history  and  romance  as  the  last  rallying- 
place  of  Moslem  power  and  splendor  in  the  Peninsula. 
Though  his   undertakings  were  vast,  and  his  expendi- 


ALHAMAB.  105 

tures  immense,  yet  his  treasury  was  always  full ;  and 
this  seeming  contradiction  gave  rise  to  the  story  that  he 
was  versed  in  magic  art,  and  possessed  of  the  secret  for 
transmuting  baser  metals  into  gold.  Those  who  have 
attended  to  his  domestic  policy,  as  here  set  forth,  will 
easily  understand  the  natural  magic  and  simple  alchemy 
which  made  his  ample  treasury  to  overflow. 


YUSEF    ABUL    HAGIG, 

THE  FINISHER  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

O  the  foregoing  particulars,  concerning  the  Mos- 
lem princes  who  once  reigned  in  these  halls,  I 
shall  add  a  brief  notice  of  the  monarch  who 
completed  and  embellished  the  Alhambra.  Ynsef  Abul 
Hagig  (or,  as  it  is  sometimes  written,  Haxis)  was  another 
prince  of  the  noble  line  of  Nasar.  He  ascended  the 
throne  of  Granada  in  the  year  of  grace  1333,  and  is  de- 
scribed by  Moslem  writers  as  having  a  noble  presence, 
great  bodily  strength,  and  a  fair  complexion ;  and  the 
majesty  of  his  countenance  increased,  say  they,  by  suf- 
fering his  beard  to  grow  to  a  dignified  length  and  dye- 
ing it  black.  His  manners  were  gentle,  affable,  and  ur- 
bane ;  he  carried  the  benignity  of  his  nature  into  warfare, 
prohibiting  all  wanton  cruelty,  and  enjoining  mercy  and 
protection  towards  women  and  children,  the  aged  and 
infirm,  and  all  friars  and  other  persons  of  holy  and  re- 
cluse life.  But  though  he  possessed  the  courage  common 
to  generous  spirits,  the  bent  of  his  genius  was  more 
for  peace  than  war,  and  though  repeatedly  obliged  by 

106 


TU8EF  ABUL   HAOIG.  107 

circumstances  to  take  up  arms,  he  was  generally  unfor- 
tunate. 

Among  other  ill-starred  enterprises,  he  undertook  a 
great  campaign,  in  conjunction  with  the  king  of  Morocco, 
against  the  kings  of  Castile  and  Portugal,  but  was 
defeated  in  the  memorable  battle  of  Salado,  which  had 
nearly  proved  a  death-blow  to  the  Moslem  power  in 
Spain. 

Yusef  obtained  a  long  truce  after  this  defeat,  and  now 
his  character  shone  forth  in  its  true  lustre.  He  had  an 
excellent  memory,  and  had  stored  his  mind  with  science 
and  erudition;  his  taste  was  altogether  elegant  and 
refined,  and  he  was  accounted  the  best  poet  of  his  time. 
Devoting  himself  to  the  instruction  of  his  people  and  the 
improvement  of  their  morals  and  manners,  he  established 
schools  in  all  the  villages,  with  simple  and  uniform  sys- 
tems of  education ;  he  obliged  every  hamlet  of  more  than 
twelve  houses  to  have  a  mosque,  and  purified  the  cere- 
monies of  religion,  and  the  festivals  and  popular  amuse- 
ments, from  various  abuses  and  indecorums  which  had 
crept  into  them.  He  attended  vigilantly  to  the  police  of 
the  city,  establishing  nocturnal  guards  and  patrols,  and 
superintending  all  municipal  concerns.  His  attention 
was  also  directed  towards  finishing  the  great  architec- 
tural works  commenced  by  his  predecessors,  and  erecting 
others  on  his  own  plans.  The  Alhambra,  which  had  been 
founded  by  the  good  Alhamar,  was  now  completed.  Yusef 
constructed  the  beautiful  Gate  of  Justice,  forming  the 


108  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

grand  entrance  to  the  fortress,  which  he  finished  in  1348. 
He  likewise  adorned  many  of  the  courts  and  halls  of  the 
palace,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  inscriptions  on  the  walls, 
in  which  his  name  repeatedly  occurs.  He  built  also  the 
noble  Alcazar  or  citadel  of  Malaga,  now  unfortunately  a 
mere  mass  of  crumbling  ruins,  but  which  most  probably 
exhibited  in  its  interior  similar  elegance  and  magnifi- 
cence with  the  Alhambra. 

The  genius  of  a  sovereign  stamps  a  character  upon  his 
time.  The  nobles  of  Granada,  imitating  the  elegant  and 
graceful  taste  of  Yusef,  soon  filled  the  city  of  Granada 
with  magnificent  palaces ;  the  halls  of  which  were  paved 
with  Mosaic,  the  walls  and  ceilings  wrought  in  fretwork, 
and  delicately  gilded  and  painted  with  azure,  vermilion, 
and  other  brilliant  colors,  or  minutely  inlaid  with  cedar 
and  other  precious  woods;  specimens  of  which  have  sur- 
vived, in  all  their  lustre,  the  lapse  of  several  centuries. 
Many  of  the  houses  had  fountains,  which  threw  up  jets  of 
water  to  refresh  and  cool  the  air.  They  had  lofty  towers 
also,  of  wood  or  stone,  curiously  carved  and  ornamented, 
and  covered  with  plates  of  metal  that  glittered  in  the 
sun.  Such  was  the  refined  and  delicate  taste  in  architec- 
ture that  prevailed  among  this  elegant  people ;  insomuch 
that,  to  use  the  beautiful  simile  of  an  Arabian  writer, 
"Granada,  in  the  days  of  Yusef,  was  as  a  silver  vase 
filled  with  emeralds  and  jacinths." 

One  anecdote  will  be  sufficient  to  show  the  magnanim- 
ity of  this  generous  prince.     The  long  truce  which  had 


TU8EF  ABUL  HAQia.  109 

succeeded  tlie  battle  of  Salado  was  at  an  end,  and  every 
effort  of  Yusef  to  renew  it  was  in  vain.  His  deadly  foe, 
Alfonzo  XL  of  Castile,  took  the  field  with  great  force,  and 
laid  siege  to  Gibraltar.  Yusef  reluctantly  took  up  arms, 
and  sent  troops  to  the  relief  of  the  place.  In  the  midst 
of  his  anxiety,  he  received  tidings  that  his  dreaded  foe 
had  suddenly  fallen  a  victim  to  the  plague.  Instead  of 
manifesting  exultation  on  the  occasion,  Yusef  called  to 
mind  the  great  qualities  of  the  deceased,  and  was  touched 
with  a  noble  sorrow.  "Alas!"  cried  he,  "the  world 
has  lost  one  of  its  most  excellent  princes;  a  sovereign 
who  knew  how  to  honor  merit,  whether  in  friend  or 
foe!" 

The  Spanish  chroniclers  themselves  bear  witness  to 
this  magnanimity.  According  to  their  accounts,  the 
Moorish  cavaliers  partook  of  the  sentiment  of  their 
king,  and  put  on  mourning  for  the  death  of  Alfonzo. 
Even  those  of  Gibraltar,  who  had  been  so  closely 
invested,  when  they  knew  that  the  hostile  monarch 
lay  dead  in  his  camp,  determined  among  themselves 
that  no  hostile  movement  should  be  made  against 
the  Christians.  The  day  on  which  the  camp  was 
broken  up,  and  the  army  departed  bearing  the  corpse 
of  Alfonzo,  the  Moors  issued  in  multitudes  from  Gib- 
raltar, and  stood  mute  and  melancholy,  watching  the 
mournful  pageant.  The  same  reverence  for  the  deceased 
was  observed  by  all  the  Moorish  commanders  on  the 
frontiers,  who    suffered    the    funeral  train    to  pass    in 


110  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

safety,  bearing  the  corpse  of  the  Christian  sovereign 
from  Gibraltar  to  Seville.^ 

Yusef  did  not  long  survive  the  enemy  he  had  so  gener- 
ously deplored.  In  the  year  1354,  as  he  was  one  day 
praying  in  the  royal  mosque  of  the  Alhambra,  a  maniac 
rushed  suddenly  from  behind  and  plunged  a  dagger  in 
his  side.  The  cries  of  the  king  brought  his  guards  and 
courtiers  to  his  assistance.  They  found  him  weltering  in 
his  blood.  He  made  some  signs  as  if  to  speak,  but  his 
words  were  unintelligible.  They  bore  him  senseless  to 
the  royal  apartments,  where  he  expired  almost  immedi- 
ately. The  murderer  was  cut  to  pieces,  and  his  limbs 
burnt  in  public  to  gratify  the  fury  of  the  populace. 

The  body  of  the  king  was  interred  in  a  superb  sepul- 
chre of  white  marble  ;  a  long  epitaph,  in  letters  of  gold 
upon  an  azure  ground,  recorded  his  virtues.  "  Here  lies 
a  king  and  martyr,  of  an  illustrious  line,  gentle,  learned, 
and  virtuous  ;  renowned  for  the  graces  of  his  person  and 
his  manners ;  whose  clemency,  piety,  and  benevolence 
were  extolled  throughout  the  kingdom  of  Granada.  He 
was  a  great  prince ;  an  illustrious  captain ;  a  sharp 
sword  of  the  Moslems ;  a  valiant  standard-beare-"  among 
the  most  potent  monarchs,"  &c. 

*  "  Y  los  moros  que  estaban  en  la  villa  y  Castillo  de  Gibraltar  despues 
que  sopieron  que  el  Rey  Don  Alonzo  era  muerto,  ordenaron  entresi  que 
ninguno  non  fuesse  osado  de  fazer  ningun  movimiento  contra  los  Chris- 
tianos,  ni  mover  pelear  contra  ellos,  estovieron  todos  quedos  y  dezian 
entre  ellos  qui  aquel  diamuriera  un  noble  rey  y  Gran  principe  del 
mundo." 


TU8EF  ABUL  HAGIQ.  HI 

The  mosque  still  exists  which  once  resounded  with  the 
dying  cries  of  Yusef,  but  the  monument  which  recorded 
his  virtues  has  long  since  disappeared.  His  name,  how- 
ever, remains  inscribed  among  the  delicate  and  graceful 
ornaments  of  the  Alhambra,  and  will  be  perpetuated  in 
connection  with  this  renowned  pile,  which  it  was  his 
pride  and  delight  to  beautify. 


THE   MYSTERIOUS   CHAMBERS. 

S  I  was  rambling  one  day  about  the  Moorish 
halls,  mv  attention  was,  for  the  first  time,  at- 
tracted to  a  door  in  a  remote  gallery,  com- 
municating apparently  with  some  part  of  the  Alhambra 
which  I  had  not  yet  explored.  I  attempted  to  open  it, 
but  it  was  locked.  I  knocked,  but  no  one  answered,  and 
the  sound  seemed  to  reverberate  through  empty  cham- 
bers. Here  then  was  a  mystery.  Here  was  the  haunted 
wing  of  the  castle.  How  was  I  to  get  at  the  dark  secrets 
here  shut  up  from  the  public  eye  ?  Should  I  come 
privately  at  night  with  lamp  and  sword,  according  to  the 
prying  custom  of  heroes  of  romance;  or  should  I  en- 
deavor to  draw  the  secret  from  Pepe  the  stuttering  gar- 
dener; or  the  ingenuous  Dolores,  or  the  loquacious 
Mateo?  Or  should  I  go  frankly  and  openly  to  Dame 
Antonia  the  chatelaine,  and  ask  her  all  about  it?  I 
chose  the  latter  course,  as  being  the  simplest  though  the 
least  romantic ;  and  found,  somewhat  to  my  disappoint- 
ment, that  there  was  no  mystery  in  the  case.  I  was  wel- 
come to  explore  the  apartment,  and  there  was  the  key. 

Thus  provided,  I  returned  forthwith  to  the  door.     It 

113 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  CHAMBERS,  113 

opened,  as  I  had  surmised,  to  a  range  of  vacant  cliam- 
bers ;  but  the j  were  quite  different  from  the  rest  of  the 
palace.  The  architecture,  though  rich  and  antiquated, 
was  European.  There  was  nothing  Moorish  about  it. 
The  first  two  rooms  were  loft j ;  the  ceilings,  broken  in 
many  places,  were  of  cedar,  deeply  panelled  and  skilfully 
carved  with  fruits  and  flowers,  intermingled  with  gro- 
tesque masks  or  faces. 

The  walls  had  evidently  in  ancient  times  been  hung 
with  damask ;  but  now  were  naked,  and  scrawled  over  by 
that  class  of  aspiring  travellers  who  defile  noble  monu- 
ments with  their  worthless  names.  The  windows,  dis- 
mantled and  open  to  wind  and  weather,  looked  out  into 
a  charming  little  secluded  garden,  where  an  alabaster 
fountain  sparkled  among  roses  and  myrtles,  and  was  sur- 
rounded by  orange  and  citron  trees,  some  of  which  flung 
their  branches  into  the  chambers.  Beyond  these  rooms 
were  two  saloons,  longer  but  less  lofty,  looking  also  into 
the  garden.  In  the  compartments  of  the  panelled  ceil- 
ings were  baskets  of  fruit  and  garlands  of  flowers,  painted 
by  no  mean  hand,  and  in  tolerable  preservation.  The 
walls  also  had  been  painted  in  fresco  in  the  Italian  style, 
but  the  paintings  were  nearly  obliterated ;  the  windows 
were  in  the  same  shattered  state  with  those  of  the  other 
chambers.  This  fanciful  suite  of  rooms  terminated  in  an 
open  gallery  with  balustrades,  running  at  right  angles 
along  another  side  of  the  garden.  The  whole  apartment, 
so  delicate  and  elegant  in  its  decorations,  so  choice  and 
8 


114  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

sequestered  in  its  situation  along  this  retired  little  gar- 
den, and  so  different  in  architecture  from  the  neighboring 
halls,  awakened  an  interest  in  its  history.  I  found  on 
inquiry  that  it  was  an  apartment  fitted  up  by  Italian 
artists  in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century,  at  the  time 
when  Philip  Y.  and  his  second  wife,  the  beautiful  Eliza- 
betta  of  Farnese,  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Parma,  were 
expected  at  the  Alhambra.  It  was  destined  for  the 
queen  and  the  ladies  of  her  train.  One  of  the  loftiest 
chambers  had  been  her  sleeping-room.  A  narrow  stair- 
case, now  walled  up,  led  up  to  a  delightful  belvidere, 
originally  a  mirador  of  the  Moorish  sultanas,  communi- 
cating with  the  harem  ;  but  which  was  fitted  up  as  a 
boudoir  for  the  fair  Elizabetta,  and  still  retains  the  name 
of  el  tocador  de  la  Reyna,  or  the  queen's  toilette. 

One  window  of  the  royal  sleeping-room  commanded  a 
prospect  of  the  Generalife  and  its  embowered  terraces ; 
another  looked  out  into  the  little  secluded  garden  I  have 
mentioned,  which  was  decidedly  Moorish  in  its  character, 
and  also  had  its  history.  It  was  in  fact  the  garden  of 
Lindaraxa,  so  often  mentioned  in  descriptions  of  the 
Alhambra,  but  who  this  Lindaraxa  was  I  had  never 
heard  explained.  A  little  research  gave  me  the  few  par- 
ticulars known  about  her.  She  was  a  Moorish  beauty 
who  flourished  in  the  court  of  Muhamed  the  Left- 
Handed,  and  was  the  daughter  of  his  loyal  adherent,  the 
alcayde  of  Malaga,  who  sheltered  him  in  his  city  when 
driven  from  the  throne.     On  regaining  his  crown,  the 


LINDARAXA.  115 

alcayde  was  rewarded  for  his  fidelity.  His  daughter  had 
her  apartment  in  the  Alhambra,  and  was  given  by  the 
king  in  marriage  to  Nasar,  a  young  Cetimerien  prince 
descended  from  Aben  Hud  the  Just.  Their  espousals 
were  doubtless  celebrated  in  the  royal  palace,  and  their 
honeymoon  may  have  passed  among  these  very  bowers.^ 

Four  centuries  had  elapsed  since  the  fair  Lindaraxa 
passed  away,  yet  how  much  of  the  fragile  beauty  of  the 
scenes  she  inhabited  remained !  The  garden  still 
bloomed  in  which  she  delighted ;  the  fountain  still  pre= 
sented  the  crystal  mirror  in  which  her  charms  may  once 
have  been  reflected ;  the  alabaster,  it  is  true,  had  lost  its 
whiteness ;  the  basin  beneath,  overrun  with  weeds,  had 
become  the  lurking-place  of  the  lizard,  but  there  was 
something  in  the  very  decay  that  enhanced  the  interest 
of  the  scene,  speaking  as  it  did  of  that  mutability,  the 
irrevocable  lot  of  man  and  all  his  works. 

The  desolation  too  of  these  chambers,  once  the  abode 
of  the  proud  and  elegant  Elizabetta,  had  a  more  touching 
charm  for  me  than  if  I  had  beheld  them  in  their  pristine 
splendor,  glittering  with  the  pageantry  of  a  court. 

When  I  returned  to  my  quarters,  in   the   governor's 

*  Una  de  las  cosas  en  que  tieuen  precisa  interveneion  los  Reyes  Moros 
as  en  el  matrimonio  de  sus  grandes  :  de  aqui  nace  que  todos  los  senores 
Uegadas  a  la  persona  real  si  casan  en  palacio,  y  siempre  huvo  su  quarto 
destinado  para  esta  eeremonia. 

One  of  the  things  in  which  the  Moorish  kings  interfered  was  in  the 
marriage  of  their  nobles  :  hence  it  came  that  all  the  senors  attached  to  the 
royal  person  were  married  in  the  palace  ;  and  there  was  always  a  chamber 
destined  for  the  ceremony. ~Pa5eosj?or  Granada,  Paseo  XXI. 


116  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

apartment,  everything  seemed  tame  and  commonplace 
after  the  poetic  region  I  had  left.  The  thought  sug- 
gested itself:  Why  could  I  not  change  my  quarters  to 
these  vacant  chambers  ?  that  would  indeed  be  living  in 
the  Alhambra,  surrounded  by  its  gardens  and  fountains, 
as  in  the  time  of  the  Moorish  sovereigns.  I  proposed 
the  change  to  Dame  Antonia  and  her  family,  and  it  oc- 
casioned vast  surprise.  They  could  not  conceive  any 
rational  inducement  for  the  choice  of  an  apartment  so 
forlorn,  remote,  and  solitary.  Dolores  exclaimed  at  its 
frightful  loneliness ;  nothing  but  bats  and  owls  flitting 
about, — and  then  a  fox  and  wildcat  kept  in  the  vaults  of 
the  neighboring  baths,  and  roamed  about  at  night.  The 
good  Tia  had  more  reasonable  objections.  The  neigh- 
borhood was  infested  by  vagrants ;  gipsies  swarmed  in 
the  caverns  of  the  adjacent  hills ;  the  palace  was  ruin- 
ous and  easy  to  be  entered  in  many  places  ;  the  rumor 
of  a  stranger  quartered  alone  in  one  of  the  remote  and 
ruined  apartments,  out  of  the  hearing  of  the  rest  of  the 
inhabitants,  might  tempt  unwelcome  visitors  in  the 
night,  especially  as  foreigners  were  always  supposed  to 
be  well  stocked  with  money.  I  was  not  to  be  diverted 
from  my  humor,  however,  and  my  will  was  law  with 
these  good  people.  So,  calling  in  the  assistance  of  a 
carpenter,  and  the  ever  officious  Mateo  Ximenes,  the 
doors  and  windows  were  soon  placed  in  a  state  of  toler- 
able security,  and  the  sleeping-room  of  the  stately  Eliza- 
betta  prepared  for  my  reception.     Mateo  kindly  volun- 


THE  FIRST  NIQHT.  117 

teered  as  a  body-guard  to  sleep  in  mj  ante-chamber ; 
but  I  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  put  his  yalor  to  the 
proof. 

With  all  the  hardihood  I  had  assumed  and  all  the 
precautions  I  had  taken,  I  must  confess  the  first  night 
passed  in  these  quarters  was  inexpressibly  dreary.  I  do 
not  think  it  was  so  much  the  apprehension  of  dangers 
from  without  that  affected  me,  as  the  character  of  the 
place  itself,  with  all  its  strange  associations  :  the  deeds 
of  violence  committed  there ;  the  tragical  ends  of  many 
of  those  who  had  once  reigned  there  in  splendor.  As  I 
passed  beneath  the  fated  halls  of  the  tower  of  Comares 
on  the  way  to  my  chamber,  I  called  to  mind  a  quotation, 
that  used  to  thrill  me  in  the  days  of  boyhood : 

"Fate  sits  on  these  dark  battlements  and  frowns; 
And,  as  the  portal  opens  to  receive  me, 
A  voice  in  sullen  echoes  through  the  courts 
Tells  of  a  nameless  deed  !  " 

The  whole  family  escorted  me  to  my  chamber,  and 
took  leave  of  me  as  of  one  engaged  on  a  perilous  enter- 
prise ;  and  when  I  heard  their  retreating  steps  die  away 
along  the  waste  antechambers  and  echoing  galleries  ;  and 
turned  the  key  of  my  door,  I  was  reminded  of  those  hob- 
goblin stories,  where  the  hero  is  left  to  accomplish  the 
adventure  of  an  enchanted  house. 

Even  the  thoughts  of  the  fair  Elizabetta  and  the  beau- 
ties of  her  court,  who  had  once  graced  these  chambers, 


118  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

now,  by  a  perversion  of  fancy,  added  to  the  gloom.  Here 
was  the  scene  of  their  transient  gayety  and  loveliness ; 
here  were  the  very  traces  of  their  elegance  and  enjoy- 
ment; but  what  and  where  were  they?  Dust  and  ashes  ! 
tenants  of  the  tomb  !  phantoms  of  the  memory  ! 

A  vague  and  indescribable  awe  was  creeping  over  me. 
I  would  fain  have  ascribed  it  to  the  thoughts  of  robbers 
awakened  by  the  evening's  conversation,  but  I  felt  it  was 
something  more  unreal  and  absurd.  The  long-buried 
superstitions  of  the  nursery  were  reviving,  and  asserting 
their  power  over  my  imagination.  Everything  began  to 
be  affected  by  the  working  of  my  mind.  The  whispering 
of  the  wind  among  the  citron-trees  beneath  my  window 
had  something  sinister.  I  cast  my  eyes  into  the  garden 
of  Lindarasa ;  the  groves  presented  a  gulf  of  shadows  ; 
the  thickets,  indistinct  and  ghastly  shapes.  I  was  glad 
to  close  the  window,  but  my  chamber  itself  became  in- 
fected. There  was  a  slight  rustling  noise  overhead;  a 
bat  suddenly  emerged  from  a  broken  panel  of  the  ceiling, 
flitting  about  the  room  and  athwart  my  solitary  lamp ; 
and  as  the  fateful  bird  almost  flouted  my  face  with  his 
noiseless  wing,  the  grotesque  faces  carved  in  high  relief 
in  the  cedar  ceiling,  whence  he  had  emerged,  seemed  to 
mope  and  mow  at  me. 

Kousing  myself,  and  half  smiling  at  this  temporary 
weakness,  I  resolved  to  brave  it  out  in  the  true  spirit  of 
the  hero  of  the  enchanted  house ;  so,  taking  lamp  in 
hand,  I  sallied  forth  to  make  a  tour  of  the  palace.     Not- 


NIGHT-WALKING.  119 

withstanding  every  mental  exertion  the  task  was  a  severe 
one.  I  had  to  traverse  waste  halls  and  mysterious  gal- 
leries, where  the  rays  of  the  lamp  extended  but  a  short 
distance  around  me.  I  walked,  as  it  were,  in  a  mere 
halo  of  light,  walled  in  by  impenetrable  darkness.  The 
vaulted  corridors  were  as  caverns ;  the  ceilings  of  the 
halls  were  lost  in  gloom.  I  recalled  all  that  had  been 
said  of  the  danger  from  interlopers  in  these  remote  and 
ruined  apartments.  Might  not  some  vagrant  foe  be  lurk- 
ing before  or  behind  me,  in  the  outer  darkness?  My 
own  shadow,  cast  upon  the  wall,  began  to  disturb  me. 
The  echoes  of  my  own  footsteps  along  the  corridors 
made  me  pause  and  look  around.  I  was  traversing  scenes 
fraught  with  dismal  recollections.  One  dark  passage  led 
down  to  the  mosque  where  Yusef,  the  Moorish  monarch, 
the  finisher  of  the  Alhambra,  had  been  basely  murdered. 
In  another  place  I  trod  the  gallery  where  another  mon- 
arch had  been  struck  down  by  the  poniard  of  a  relative 
whom  he  had  thwarted  in  his  love. 

A  low  murmuring  sound,  as  of  stifled  voices  and  clank- 
ing chains,  now  reached  me.  It  seemed  to  come  from 
the  Hall  of  the  Abencerrages.  I  knew  it  to  be  the  rush 
of  water  through  subterranean  channels,  but  it  sounded 
strangely  in  the  night,  and  reminded  me  of  the  dismal 
stories  to  which  it  had  given  rise. 

Soon,  however,  my  ear  was  assailed  by  sounds  too 
fearfully  real  to  be  the  work  of  fancy.  As  I  was  cross- 
ing  the   Hall  of  Ambassador^  low  moans  and   broken 


120  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

ejaculations  rose,  as  it  were,  from  beneath  my  feet.  I 
paused  and  listened.  They  then  appeared  to  be  outside 
of  the  tower — then  again  within.  Then  broke  forth 
bowlings  as  of  an  animal — then  stifled  shrieks  and  inar- 
ticulate ravings.  Heard  in  that  dead  hour  and  singular 
place,  the  effect  was  thrilling.  I  had  no  desire  for  fur- 
ther perambulation ;  but  returned  to  my  chamber  with 
infinitely  more  alacrity  than  I  had  sallied  forth,  and 
drew  my  breath  more  freely  when  once  more  within  its 
walls  and  the  door  bolted  behind  me.  When  I  awoke 
in  the  morning,  with  the  sun  shining  in  at  my  window 
and  lighting  up  every  part  of  the  building  with  his 
cheerful  and  truth-telling  beams,  I  could  scarcely  recall 
the  shadows  and  fancies  conjured  up  by  the  gloom  of  the 
preceding  night ;  or  believe  that  the  scenes  around  me, 
so  naked  and  apparent,  could  have  been  clothed  with 
such  imaginary  horrors. 

Still,  the  dismal  bowlings  and  ejaculations  I  had  heard 
were  not  ideal ;  they  were  soon  accounted  for,  however, 
by  my  handmaid  Dolores:  being  the  ravings  of  a  poor 
maniac,  a  brother  of  her  aunt,  who  was  subject  to  violent 
paroxysms,  during  which  he  was  confined  in  a  vaulted 
room  beneath  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  evenings  a  thorough  change 
took  place  in  the  scene  and  its  associations.  The  moon, 
which  when  I  took  possession  of  my  new  apartments 
was  invisible,  gradually  gained  each  evening  upon  the 
darkness  of  the  night,  and  at  length  rolled  in  full  splen- 


TEE  ALHAMBBA  BY  MOONLIGHT.  121 

dor  above  the  towers,  pouring  a  flood  of  tempered  light 
into  every  court  and  hall.  The  garden  beneath  my  win- 
dow, before  wrapped  in  gloom,  was  gently  lighted  up ; 
the  orange  and  citron  trees  were  tipped  with  silver ;  the 
fountain  sparkled  in  the  moonbeams,  and  even  the  blush 
of  the  rose  was  faintly  visible. 

I  now  felt  the  poetic  merit  of  the  Arabic  inscription  on 
the  walls, — "  How  beauteous  is  this  garden ;  where  the 
flowers  of  the  earth  vie  with  the  stars  of  heaven.  What 
can  compare  with  the  vase  of  yon  alabaster  fountain 
filled  with  crystal  water  ?  nothing  but  the  moon  in  her 
fulness,  shining  in  the  midst  of  an  unclouded  sky  !  " 

On  such  heavenly  nights  I  would  sit  for  hours  at  my 
window  inhaling  the  sweetness  of  the  garden,  and  musing 
on  the  checkered  fortunes  of  those  whose  history  was 
dimly  shadowed  out  in  the  elegant  memorials  around. 
Sometimes,  when  all  was  quiet,  and  the  clock  from  the 
distant  cathedral  of  Granada  struck  the  midnight  hour, 
I  have  sallied  out  on  another  tour  and  wandered  over 
the  whole  building ;  but  how  different  from  my  first 
tour  !  No  longer  dark  and  mysterious  ;  no  longer  peo- 
pled with  shadowy  foes ;  no  longer  recalling  scenes  of 
violence  and  murder ;  all  was  open,  spacious,  beautiful ; 
everything  called  up  pleasing  and  romantic  fancies ;  Lin- 
daraxa  once  more  walked  in  her  garden  ;  the  gay  chiv- 
alry of  Moslem  Granada  once  more  glittered  about  the 
Court  of  Lions  !  Who  can  do  justice  to  a  moonlight 
night  in  such  a  climate  and  such  a  place  ?     The  temper- 


122  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

ature  of  a  summer  midnight  in  Andalusia  is  perfectly 
ethereal.  We  seem  lifted  up  into  a  purer  atmosphere ; 
we  feel  a  serenity  of  soul,  a  buoyancy  of  spirits,  an  elas- 
ticity of  frame,  which  render  mere  existence  happiness. 
But  when  moonlight  is  added  to  all  this,  the  effect  is 
like  enchantment.  Under  its  plastic  sway  the  Alham- 
bra  seems  to  regain  its  pristine  glories.  Every  rent  and 
chasm  of  time  ;  every  mouldering  tint  and  weather-stain 
is  gone ;  the  marble  resumes  its  original  whiteness  ;  the 
long  colonnades  brighten  in  the  moonbeams ;  the  halls 
are  illuminated  with  a  softened  radiance, — we  tread  the 
enchanted  palace  of  an  Arabian  tale  ! 

What  a  delight,  at  such  a  time,  to  ascend  to  the  little 
airy  pavilion  of  the  queen's  toilet  (el  tocador  de  la 
reyna),  which,  like  a  bird-cage,  overhangs  the  valley  of 
the  Darro,  and  gaze  from  its  light  arcades  upon  the 
moonlight  prospect !  To  the  right,  the  swelling  moun- 
tains of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  robbed  of  their  ruggedness 
and  softened  into  a  fairy  land,  with  their  snowy  summits 
gleaming  like  silver  clouds  against  the  deep  blue  sky. 
And  then  to  lean  over  the  parapet  of  the  Tocador  and 
gaze  down  upon  Granada  and  the  Albaycin  spread  out 
like  a  map  below ;  all  buried  in  deep  repose  ;  the  white 
palaces  and  convents  sleeping  in  the  moonshine,  and 
beyond  all  these  the  vapory  Vega  fading  away  like  a 
dreamland  in  the  distance. 

Sometimes  the  faint  click  of  castanets  rise  from  the 
Alameda,  where  some  gay  Andalusians  are  dancing  away 


THE  ALHAMBBA  BY  MOONLIGHT.  123 

the  summer  night.  Sometimes  the  dubious  tones  of  a 
guitar  and  the  notes  of  an  amorous  voice,  tell  perchance 
the  whereabout  of  some  moonstruck  lover  serenading  his 
lady's  window. 

Such  is  a  faint  picture  of  the  moonlight  nights  I  have 
passed  loitering  about  the  courts  and  halls  and  balconies 
of  this  most  suggestive  pile;  "feeding  my  fancy  with 
sugared  suppositions,"  and  enjoying  that  mixture  of 
reverie  and  sensation  which  steal  away  existence  in  a 
southern  climate  ;  so  that  it  has  been  almost  morning 
before  I  have  retired  to  bed,  and  been  lulled  to  sleep  by 
the  falling  waters  of  the  fountain  of  Lindaraxa, 


PANOEAMA  FROM  THE   TOWER  OF 
COMARES. 

T  is  a  serene  and  beautiful  morning  :  the  sun 
has  not  gained  sufficient  power  to  destroy  the 
freshness  of  the  night.  What  a  morning  to 
mount  to  the  summit  of  the  Tower  of  Comares,  and  take 
a  bird's-eye  view  of  Granada  and  its  environs ! 

Come  then,  worthy  reader  and  comrade,  follow  my 
steps  into  this  vestibule,  ornamented  with  rich  tracery, 
which  opens  into  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors.  We  will  not 
enter  the  hall,  however,  but  turn  to  this  small  door  open- 
ing into  the  wall.  Have  a  care  !  here  are  steep  winding 
steps  and  but  scanty  light ;  yet  up  this  narrow,  obscure, 
and  spiral  staircase,  the  proud  monarchs  of  Granada  and 
their  queens  have  often  ascended  to  the  battlements  to 
watch  the  approach  of  invading  armies,  or  gaze  with 
anxious  hearts  on  the  battles  in  the  Yega. 

At  length  we  have  reached  the  terraced  roof,  and  may 
take  breath  for  a  moment,  while  we  cast  a  general  eye 
over  the  splendid  panorama  of  city  and  country ;  of  rocky 
mountain,  verdant  valley,  and  fertile  plain  ;  of  castle, 
cathedral,  Moorish  towers,  and  Gothic  domes,  crumbling 

124 


THE   VALLEY  OF  THE  DARRO.  125 

rains,  and  blooming  groves.  Let  us  approach  the  battle- 
ments, and  cast  our  eyes  immediately  below.  See,  on 
this  side  we  have  the  whole  plain  of  the  Alhambra  laid 
open  to  us,  and  can  look  down  into  its  courts  and  gar- 
dens. At  the  foot  of  the  tower  is  the  Court  of  the  Al- 
berca,  with  its  great  tank  or  fishpool,  bordered  with 
flowers;  and  yonder  is  the  Court  of  Lions,  with  its 
famous  fountain,  and  its  light  Moorish  arcades ;  and  in 
the  centre  of  the  pile  is  the  little  garden  of  Lindaraxa, 
buried  in  the  heart  of  the  building,  with  its  roses  and 
citrons  and  shrubbery  of  emerald  green. 

That  belt  of  battlements,  studded  with  square  towers, 
straggling  round  the  whole  brow  of  the  hill,  is  the  outer 
boundary  of  the  fortress.  Some  of  the  towers,  you  may 
perceive,  are  in  ruins,  and  their  massive  fragments 
buried  among  vines,  fig-trees,  and  aloes. 

Let  us  look  on  this  northern  side  of  the  tower.  It  is  a 
giddy  height;  the  very  foundations  of  the  tower  rise 
above  the  groves  of  the  steep  hill-side.  And  see !  a  long 
fissure  in  the  massive  walls  shows  that  the  tower  has 
been  rent  by  some  of  the  earthquakes  which  from  time 
to  time  have  thrown  Granada  into  consternation  ;  and 
which,  sooner  or  later,  must  reduce  this  crumbling  pile 
to  a  mere  mass  of  ruin.  The  deep  narrow  glen  below  us, 
which  gradually  widens  as  it  opens  from  the  mountains, 
is  the  valley  of  the  Darro ;  you  see  the  little  river 
winding  its  way  under  embowered  terraces,  and  among 
orchards  and  flower-gardens.     It  is  a  stream  famous  in 


126  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

old  times  for  yielding  gold,  and  its  sands  are  still  sifted 
occasionally,  in  search  of  the  precious  ore.  Some  of 
those  white  pavilions,  which  here  and  there  gleam  from 
among  groves  and  vineyards,  were  rustic  retreats  of  the 
Moors,  to  enjoy  the  refreshment  of  their  gardens.  Well 
have  they  been  compared  by  one  of  their  poets  to  so 
many  pearls  set  in  a  bed  of  emeralds. 

The  airy  palace,  with  its  tall  white  towers  and  long 
arcades,  which  breasts  yon  mountain,  among  pompous 
groves  and  hanging  gardens,  is  the  Generalife,  a  summer 
palace  of  the  Moorish  kings,  to  which  they  resorted  dur- 
ing the  sultry  months  to  enjoy  a  still  more  breezy  region 
than  that  of  the  Alhambra.  The  naked  summit  of  the 
height  above  it,  where  you  behold  some  shapeless  ruins, 
is  the  Silla  del  Moro,  or  seat  of  the  Moor,  so  called  from 
having  been  a  retreat  of  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  dur- 
ing the  time  of  an  insurrection,  where  he  seated  himself, 
and  looked  down  mournfully  upon  his  rebellious  city. 

A  murmuring  sound  of  water  now  and  then  rises  from 
the  valley.  It  is  from  the  aqueduct  of  yon  Moorish 
mill,  nearly  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  The  avenue  of  trees 
beyond  is  the  Alameda,  along  the  bank  of  the  Darro  ;  a 
favorite  resort  in  evenings,  and  a  rendezvous  of  lovers  in 
the  summer  nights,  when  the  guitar  may  be  heard  at  a 
late  hour  from  the  benches  along  its  walks.  At  present 
you  see  none  but  a  few  loitering  monks  there,  and  a 
group  of  water-carriers.  The  latter  are  burdened  with 
water-jars  of  ancient  Oriental  construction,  such  as  were 


THE  SIERRA  NEVADA,  127 

used  by  the  Moors.  They  have  been  filled  at  the  cold 
and  limpid  spring  called  the  fountain  of  Avellanos.  Yon 
mountain  path  leads  to  the  fountain,  a  favorite  resort  of 
Moslems  as  well  as  Christians  ;  for  this  is  said  to  be  the 
Adinamar  (Aynu-1-adamar),  the  "Fountain  of  Tears," 
mentioned  by  Ibn  Batuta  the  traveller,  and  celebrated  in 
the  histories  and  romances  of  the  Moors. 

You  start !  'tis  nothing  but  a  hawk  that  we  have  fright- 
ened from  his  nest.  This  old  tower  is  a  complete  breed- 
ing-place for  vagrant  birds  ;  the  swallow  and  martlet 
abound  in  every  chink  and  cranny,  and  circle  about  it 
the  whole  day  long ;  while  at  night,  when  all  other  birds 
have  gone  to  rest,  the  moping  owl  comes  out  of  its  lurk- 
ing-place, and  utters  its  boding  cry  from  the  battlements. 
See  how  the  hawk  we  have  dislodged  sweeps  away  below 
us,  skimming  over  the  tops  of  the  trees,  and  sailing  up  to 
the  ruins  above  the  Generalife  ! 

I  see  you  raise  your  eyes  to  the  snowy  summit  of  yon 
pile  of  mountains,  shining  like  a  white  summer  cloud  in 
the  blue  sky.  It  is  the  Sierra  Nevada,  the  pride  and  de- 
light of  Granada ;  the  source  of  her  cooling  breezes  and 
perpetual  verdure ;  of  her  gushing  fountains  and  peren- 
nial streams.  It  is  this  glorious  pile  of  mountains  whicli 
gives  to  Granada  that  combination  of  delights  so  rare  in 
a  southern  city, — the  fresh  vegetation  and  temperate  airs 
of  a  northern  climate,  with  the  vivifying  ardor  of  a  tropi- 
cal sun,  and  the  cloudless  azure  of  a  southern  sky.  It  is 
this  aerial  treasury  of  snow,  which,  melting  in  proportion 


128  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

fco  the  increase  of  the  summer  heat,  sends  down  rivulets 
and  streams  through  every  glen  and  gorge  of  the  Alpux- 
arras,  diffusing  emerald  verdure  and  fertility  throughout 
a  chain  of  happy  and  sequestered  valleys. 

Those  mountains  may  be  well  called  the  glory  of 
Granada.  They  dominate  the  whole  extent  of  Andalusia, 
and  may  be  seen  from  its  most  distant  parts.  The  mule- 
teer hails  them,  as  he  views  their  frosty  peaks  from  the 
sultry  level  of  the  plain ;  and  the  Spanish  mariner  on  the 
deck  of  his  bark,  far,  far  off  on  the  bosom  of  the  blue 
Mediterranean,  watches  them  with  a  pensive  eye,  thinks 
of  delightful  Granada,  and  chants,  in  low  voice,  some  old 
romance  about  the  Moors. 

See  to  the  south  at  the  foot  of  those  mountains  a  line 
of  arid  hills,  down  which  a  long  train  of  mules  is  slowly 
moving.  Here  was  the  closing  scene  of  Moslem  domina- 
tion. From  the  summit  of  one  of  those  hills  the  unfor- 
tunate Boabdil  cast  back  his  last  look  upon  Granada,  and 
gave  vent  to  the  agony  of  his  soul.  It  is  the  spot  famous 
in  song  and  story,  "  The  last  sigh  of  the  Moor." 

Further  this  way  these  arid  hills  slope  down  into  the 
luxurious  Yega,  from  which  he  had  just  emerged :  a 
blooming  wilderness  of  grove  and  garden,  and  teeming 
orchard,  with  the  Xenil  winding  through  it  in  silver 
links,  and  feeding  innumerable  rills ;  which,  conducted 
through  ancient  Moorish  channels,  maintain  the  land- 
scape in  perpetual  verdure.  Here  were  the  beloved 
bowers  and  gardens,  and  rural  pavilions,  for  which  the 


8ANTA  FE.  129 

unfortunate  Moors  fought  with  such  desperate  valor. 
The  very  hovels  and  rude  granges,  now  inhabited  by 
boors,  show,  by  the  remains  of  arabesques  and  other 
tasteful  decoration,  that  they  were  elegant  residences  in 
the  days  of  the  Moslems.  Behold,  in  the  very  centre  of 
this  eventful  plain,  a  place  which  in  a  manner  links  the 
history  of  the  Old  World  with  that  of  the  New.  Yon 
line  of  walls  and  towers  gleaming  in  the  morning  sun,  is 
the  city  of  Santa  Fe,  built  by  the  Catholic  sovereigns 
during  the  siege  of  Granada,  after  a  conflagration  had 
destroyed  their  camp.  It  was  to  these  walls  Columbus 
was  called  back  by  the  heroic  queen,  and  within  them 
the  treaty  was  concluded  which  led  to  the  discovery  ot 
the  Western  World.  Behind  yon  promontory  to  the 
west  is  the  bridge  of  Pinos,  renowned  for  many  a  bloody 
fight  between  Moors  and  Christians.  At  this  bridge  the 
messenger  overtook  Columbus  when,  despairing  of  suc- 
cess with  the  Spanish  sovereigns,  he  was  departing  to 
carry  his  project  of  discovery  to  the  court  of  France. 

Above  the  bridge  a  range  of  mountains  bounds  the 
Yega  to  the  west, — the  ancient  barrier  between  Granada 
and  the  Christian  territories.  Among  their  heights  you 
may  still  discern  warrior  towns ;  their  gray  walls  and 
battlements  seeming  of  a  piece  with  the  rocks  on  which 
they  are  built.  Here  and  there  a  solitary  atalaya,  or 
watchtower,  perched  on  a  mountain  peak,  looks  down  as 
it  were  from  the  sky  into  the  valley  on  either  side.  How 
often  have  these  atalayas  given  notice,  by  fire  at  night  or 


130  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

smoke  by  day,  of  an  approacliing  foe !  It  was  down  a 
cragged  defile  of  these  mountains,  called  the  Pass  of 
Lope,  that  the  Christian  armies  descended  into  the  Yega. 
Bound  the  base  of  yon  gray  and  naked  mountain  (the 
mountain  of  Elvira),  stretching  its  bold  rocky  promon- 
tory into  the  bosom  of  the  plain,  the  invading  squadrons 
would  come  bursting  into  view,  with  flaunting  banners 
and  clangor  of  drum  and  trumpet. 

Five  hundred  years  have  elapsed  since  Ismael  ben 
Ferrag,  a  Moorish  king  of  Granada,  beheld  from  this 
very  tower  an  invasion  of  the  kind,  and  an  insulting  rav- 
age of  the  Yega  ;  on  which  occasion  he  displayed  an  in- 
stance of  chivalrous  magnanimity,  often  witnessed  in  the 
Moslem  princes ;  "  whose  history,"  says  an  Arabian 
writer,  "  abounds  in  generous  actions  and  noble  deeds 
that  will  last  through  all  succeeding  ages,  and  live  for- 
ever in  the  memory  of  man." — But  let  us  sit  down  on  this 
parapet,  and  I  will  relate  the  anecdote. 

It  was  in  the  year  of  Grace  1319,  that  Ismael  ben  Fer- 
rag  beheld  from  this  tower  a  Christian  camp  whitening 
the  skirts  of  yon  mountain  of  Elvira.  The  royal  princes, 
Don  Juan  and  Don  Pedro,  regents  of  Castile  during  the 
minority  of  Alphonso  XI.,  had  already  laid  waste  the 
country  from  Alcaudete  to  AlcaM  la  Eeal,  capturing  the 
castle  of  Illora,  and  setting  fire  to  its  suburbs,  and  they 
now  carried  their  insulting  ravages  to  the  very  gates  of 
Granada,  defying  the  king  to  sally  forth  and  give  them 
battle. 


I8MAEL  BEN  FEBBAQ,  131 

Ismael,  tliougli  a  young  and  intrepid  piince,  hesitated 
to  accept  the  challenge.  He  had  not  sufficient  force  at 
hand,  and  awaited  the  arrival  of  troops  summoned  from 
the  neighboring  towns.  The  Christian  princes,  mistaking 
his  motives,  gave  up  all  hope  of  drawing  him  forth,  and 
having  glutted  themselves  with  ravage,  struck  their  tents 
and  began  their  homeward  march.  Don  Pedro  led  the 
van,  and  Don  Juan  brought  up  the  rear,  but  their  march 
was  confused  and  irregular,  the  army  being  greatly  en- 
cumbered by  the  spoils  and  captives  they  had  taken. 

By  this  time  King  Ismael  had  received  his  expected 
resources,  and  putting  them  under  the  command  of 
Osmyn,  one  of  the  bravest  of  his  generals,  sent  them 
forth  in  hot  pursuit  of  the  enemy.  The  Christians  were 
overtaken  in  the  defiles  of  the  mountains.  A  panic 
seized  them ;  they  were  completely  routed,  and  driven 
with  great  slaughter  across  the  borders.  Both  of  the 
princes  lost  their  lives.  The  body  of  Don  Pedro  was 
carried  off  by  his  soldiers,  but  that  of  Don  Juan  was  lost 
in  the  darkness  of  the  night.  His  son  wrote  to  the 
Moorish  king,  entreating  that  the  body  of  his  father 
might  be  sought  and  honorably  treated.  Ismael  forgot 
in  a  moment  that  Don  Juan  was  an  enemy,  who  had  car- 
ried ravage  and  insult  to  the  very  gate  of  his  capital ;  he 
only  thought  of  him  as  a  gallant  cavalier  and  a  royal 
prince.  By  his  command  diligent  search  was  made  for 
the  body.  It  was  found  in  a  barranco  and  brought  to 
Granada.     There  Ismael  caused  it  to  be  laid  out  in  state 


132  THE  ALHAMBBA, 

on  a  lofty  bier,  surrounded  by  torcbes  and  tapers,  in  one 
of  tbese  halls  of  the  Alhambra.  Osmyn  and  other  of  the 
noblest  cavaliers  were  appointed  as  a  guard  of  honor, 
and  the  Christian  captives  were  assembled  to  pray 
around  it. 

In  the  meantime,  Ismael  wrote  to  the  son  of  Prince 
Juan  to  send  a  convoy  for  the  body,  assuring  him  it 
should  be  faithfully  delivered  up.  In  due  time,  a  band 
of  Christian  cavaliers  arrived  for  the  purpose.  They 
were  honorably  received  and  entertained  by  Ismael,  and, 
on  their  departure  with  the  body,  the  guard  of  honor  of 
Moslem  cavaliers  escorted  the  funeral  train  to  the  fron- 
tier. 

But  enough; — the  sun  is  high  above  the  mountains, 
and  pours  his  fall  fervor  on  our  heads.  Already  the 
terraced  roof  is  hot  beneath  our  feet ;  let  us  abandon  it^ 
and  refresh  ourselves  under  the  Arcades  by  the  Foim- 
tain  of  the  Lions. 


FOUNTAIN   OF  THE   LIONS. 


THE    TRUANT. 

E  have  had  a  scene  of  a  petty  tribulation  in  the 
Alhambra,  which  has  thrown  a  clond  over  the 
sunny  countenance  of  Dolores.  This  little 
damsel  has  a  female  passion  for  pets  of  all  kinds ;  and 
from  the  superabundant  kindness  of  her  disposition  one 
of  the  ruined  courts  of  the  Alhambra  is  thronged  with 
her  favorites.  A  stately  peacock  and  his  hen  seem  to 
hold  regal  sway  here,  over  pompous  turkeys,  querulous 
guinea-fowls,  and  a  rabble  rout  of  common  cocks  and 
hens.  The  great  delight  of  Dolores,  however,  has  for 
some  time  past  been  centred  in  a  youthful  pair  of  pig- 
eons, who  have  lately  entered  into  the  holy  state  of  wed- 
lock, and  even  supplanted  a  tortoise-shell  cat  and  kittens 
in  her  affections. 

As  a  tenement  for  them  wherein  to  commence  house- 
keeping, she  had  fitted  up  a  small  chamber  adjacent  to 
the  kitchen,  the  window  of  which  looked  into  one  of  the 
quiet  Moorish  courts.  Here  they  lived  in  happy  igno- 
rance of  any  world  beyond  the  court  and  its  sunny  roofs. 
Never  had  they  aspired  to  soar  above  the  battlements,  or 

to  mount  to  the  summit  of  the  towers.     Their  virtuous 

133 


134  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

union  was  at  length  crowned  by  two  spotless  and  milk- 
white  eggs,  to  the  great  joy  of  their  cherishing  little  mis- 
tress. Nothing  could  be  more  praiseworthy  than  the 
conduct  of  the  young  married  folks  on  this  interesting 
occasion.  They  took  turns  to  sit  upon  the  nest  until  the 
eggs  were  hatched,  and  while  their  callow  progeny  re- 
quired warmth  and  shelter  ; — while  one  thus  stayed  at 
home,  the  other  foraged  abroad  for  food,  and  brought 
home  abundant  supplies. 

This  scene  of  conjugal  felicity  has  suddenly  met  with  a 
reverse.  Early  this  morning,  as  Dolores  was  feeding  the 
male  pigeon,  she  took  a  fancy  to  give  him  a  peep  at  the 
great  world.  Opening  a  window,  therefore,  which  looks 
down  upon  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  she  launched  him  at 
once  beyond  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra.  For  the  first 
time  in  his  life  the  astonished  bird  had  to  try  the  full 
vigor  of  his  wings.  He  swept  down  into  the  valley,  and 
then  rising  upwards  with  a  surge,  soared  almost  to  the 
clouds.  Never  before  had  he  risen  to  such  a  height,  or 
experienced  such  delight  in  flying;  and,  like  a  young 
spendthrift  just  come  to  his  estate,  he  seemed  giddy  with 
excess  of  liberty,  and  with  the  boundless  field  of  action 
suddenly  opened  to  him.  For  the  whole  day  he  has  been 
circling  about  in  capricious  flights,  from  tower  to  tower, 
and  tree  to  tree.  Every  attempt  has  been  vain  to  lure 
him  back  by  scattering  grain  upon  the  roofs ;  he  seems 
to  have  lost  all  thought  of  home,  of  his  tender  helpmate, 
and  his  callow  young.     To  add  to  the  anxiety  of  Dolores, 


THE  TRUANT.  135 

lie  lias  been  joined  bj  two  palomas  ladrones,  or  robber 
pigeons,  whose  instinct  it  is  to  entice  wandering  pigeons 
to  their  own  dove-cotes.  The  fugitive,  like  many  other 
thoughtless  youths  on  their  first  launching  upon  the 
world,  seems  quite  fascinated  with  these  knowing  but 
graceless  companions,  who  have  undertaken  to  show  him 
life,  and  introduce  him  to  society.  He  has  been  soaring 
with  them  over  all  the  roofs  and  steeples  of  Granada.  A 
thunder-storm  has  passed  over  the  city,  but  he  has  not 
sought  his  home ;  night  has  closed  in,  and  still  he  comes 
not.  To  deepen  the  pathos  of  the  affair,  the  female  pig- 
eon, after  remaining  several  hours  on  the  nest  without 
being  relieved,  at  length  went  forth  to  seek  her  recreant 
mate ;  but  stayed  away  so  long  that  the  young  ones  per- 
ished for  want  of  the  warmth  and  shelter  of  the  parent 
bosom.  At  a  late  hour  in  the  evening,  word  was  brought 
to  Dolores  that  the  truant  bird  had  been  seen  upon  the 
towers  of  the  Generalife.  Now  it  happens  that  the  Ad- 
ministrador  of  that  ancient  palace  has  likewise  a  dove- 
cote, among  the  inmates  of  which  are  said  to  be  two  or 
three  of  these  inveigling  birds,  the  terror  of  all  neigh- 
boring pigeon-fanciers.  Dolores  immediately  concluded 
that  the  two  feathered  sharpers  who  had  been  seen  with 
her  fugitive  were  these  bloods  of  the  Generalife.  A  coun- 
cil of  war  was  forthwith  held  in  the  chamber  of  Tia  An- 
tonia.  The  Generalife  is  a  distinct  jurisdiction  from  the 
Alhambra,  and  of  course  some  punctilio,  if  not  jealousy, 
exists  between    their  custodians.     It  was   determined, 


136  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

therefore,  to  send  P^pe,  the  stuttering  lad  of  the  gardens, 
as  ambassador  to  the  Administrador,  requesting  that  if 
such  fugitive  should  be  found  in  his  dominions,  he  might 
be  given  up  as  a  subject  of  the  Alhambra.  P^pe  de- 
parted accordingly,  on  his  diplomatic  expedition,  through 
the  moonlit  groves  and  avenues,  but  returned  in  an  hour 
with  the  afflicting  intelligence  that  no  such  bird  was  to 
be  found  in  the  dove-cote  of  the  Generalife.  The  Admin- 
istrador, however,  pledged  his  sovereign  word  that  if 
such  vagrant  should  appear  there,  even  at  midnight,  he 
should  be  instantly  arrested  and  sent  back  prisoner  to 
his  little  black-eyed  mistress. 

Thus  stands  the  melancholy  affair,  which  has  occa- 
sioned much  distress  throughout  the  palace,  and  has  sent 
the  inconsolable  Dolores  to  a  sleepless  pillow. 

"  Sorrow  endureth  for  a  night,"  says  the  prov- 
erb, "  but  joy  Cometh  in  the  morning."  The  first  object 
that  met  my  eyes,  on  leaving  my  room  this  morning,  was 
Dolores,  with  the  truant  pigeon  in  her  hands,  and  her 
eyes  sparkling  with  joy.  He  had  appeared  at  an  early 
hour  on  the  battlements,  hovering  shyly  about  from  roof 
to  roof,  but  at  length  entered  the  window,  and  sur- 
rendered himself  prisoner.  He  gained  little  credit,  how- 
ever, by  his  return ;  for  the  ravenous  manner  in  which 
he  devoured  the  food  set  before  him  showed  that,  like 
the  prodigal  son,  he  had  been  driven  home  by  sheer 
famine.  Dolores  upbraided  him  for  his  faithless  con- 
duct, calling  him  all  manners  of  vagrant  names,  though, 


THE  TRUANT.  I37 

womanlike,  she  fondled  liim  at  the  same  time  to  her 
bosom,  and  covered  him  with  kisses.  I  observed,  how- 
ever, that  she  had  taken  care  to  clip  his  wings  to  prevent 
all  future  soarings ;  a  precaution  which  I  mention  for  the 
benefit  of  all  those  who  have  truant  lovers  or  wandering 
husbands.  Mora  than  one  valuable  moral  might  be 
drawn  from  the  story  of  Dolores  and  her  pigeon. 


THE   BALCONY. 

HA  YE  spoken  of  a  balcony  of  the  central  win- 
dow of  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors.  It  served  as 
a  kind  of  observatory,  where  I  used  often  to 
take  my  seat,  and  consider  not  merely  the  heaven  above 
but  the  earth  beneath.  Besides  the  magnificent  pros- 
pect which  it  commanded  of  mountain,  valley,  and  vega, 
there  was  a  little  busy  scene  of  human  life  laid  open  to 
inspection  immediately  below.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill 
was  an  alameda,  or  public  walk,  which,  though  not  so 
fashionable  as  the  more  modern  and  splendid  paseo  of 
the  Xenil,  still  boasted  a  varied  and  picturesque  con- 
course. Hither  resorted  the  small  gentry  of  the  suburbs, 
together  with  priests  and  friars,  who  walked  for  appetite 
and  digestion ;  majos  and  majas,  the  beaux  and  belles  of 
the  lower  classes,  in  their  Andalusian  dresses  ;  swagger- 
ing contrabandistas,  and  sometimes  half-muffled  and 
mysterious  loungers  of  the  higher  ranks,  on  some  secret 
assignation. 

It  was  a  moving  picture  of  Spanish  life  and  character, 
which  I  delighted  to  study  ;  and  as  the  astronomer  has 
his  grand  telescope  with  which  to  sweep  the  skies,  and, 

138 


VIBWS  FROM  A  BALCONY.  139 

as  it  were,  bring  the  stars  nearer  for  his  inspection,  so  I 
had  a  smaller  one,  of  pocket  size,  for  the  use  of  my  ob- 
servatory, with  which  I  could  sweep  the  regions  below, 
and  bring  the  countenances  of  the  motley  groups  so  close 
as  almost,  at  times,  to  make  me  think  I  could  divine 
their  conversation  by  the  play  and  expression  of  their 
features.  I  was  thus,  in  a  manner,  an  invisible  observer, 
and,  without  quitting  my  solitude,  could  throw  myself  in 
an  instant  into  the  midst  of  society, — a  rare  advantage  to 
one  of  somewhat  shy  and  quiet  habits,  and  fond,  like  my- 
self, of  observing  the  drama  of  life  without  becoming  an 
actor  in  the  scene. 

There  was  a  considerable  suburb  lying  below  the  Al- 
hambra,  filling  the  narrow  gorge  of  the  valley,  and  ex- 
tending up  the  opposite  hill  of  the  Albaycin.  Many  of 
the  houses  were  built  in  the  Moorish  style,  round  patios, 
or  courts,  cooled  by  fountains  and  open  to  the  sky ; 
and  as  the  inhabitants  passed  much  of  their  time  in 
these  courts,  and  on  the  terraced  roofs  during  the  sum- 
mer season,  it  follows  that  many  a  glance  at  their  do- 
mestic life  might  be  obtained  by  an  aerial  spectator  like 
myself,  who  could  look  down  on  them  from  the  clouds. 

I  enjoyed  in  some  degree  the  advantages  of  the  stu- 
dent in  the  famous  old  Spanish  story,  who  beheld  all 
Madrid  unroofed  for  his  inspection  ;  and  my  gossiping 
squire,  Mateo  Ximenes,  officiated  occasionally  as  my 
Asmodeus,  to  give  me  anecdotes  of  the  different  man- 
sions and  their  inhabitants. 


140  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

I  preferred,  however,  to  form  conjectural  histories  for 
myself,  and  tliiis  would  sit  for  hours,  weaving,  from  cas- 
ual incidents  and  indications  passing  under  my  eye,  a 
whole  tissue  of  schemes,  intrigues,  and  occupations  of 
the  busy  mortals  below.  There  was  scarce  a  pretty  face 
or  a  striking  figure  that  I  daily  saw,  about  which  I  had 
not  thus  gradually  framed  a  dramatic  story,  though  some 
of  my  characters  would  occasionally  act  in  direct  opposi- 
tion to  the  part  assigned  them,  and  disconcert  the  whole 
drama.  Keconnoitring  one  day  with  my  glass  the  streets 
of  the  Albaycin,  I  beheld  the  procession  of  a  novice 
about  to  take  the  veil ;  and  remarked  several  circum- 
stances which  excited  the  strongest  sympathy  in  the  fate 
of  the  youthful  being  thus  about  to  be  consigned  to  a 
living  tomb.  I  ascertained  to  my  satisfaction  that  she 
was  beautiful,  and,  from  the  paleness  of  her  cheek,  that 
she  was  a  victim  rather  than  a  votary.  She  was  arrayed 
in  bridal  garments,  and  decked  with  a  chaplet  of  white 
flowers,  but  her  heart  evidently  revolted  at  this  mockery 
of  a  spiritual  union,  and  yearned  after  its  earthly  loves. 
A  tall  stern-looking  man  walked  near  her  in  the  proces- 
sion :  it  was,  of  course,  the  tyrannical  father,  who,  from 
some  bigoted  or  sordid  motive,  had  compelled  this  sacri- 
fice. Amid  the  crowd  was  a  dark  handsome  youth,  in  An- 
dalusian  garb,  who  seemed  to  fix  on  her  an  eye  of  agony. 
It  was  doubtless  the  secret  lover  from  whom  she  was  for- 
ever to  be  separated.  My  indignation  rose  as  I  noted 
the   malignant   expression  painted  on  the  countenances 


TAKING    THE  VEIL.  14| 

of  the  attendant  monks  and  friars.  The  procession  ar- 
rived at  the  chapel  of  the  convent ;  the  sun  gleamed  for 
the  last  time  upon  the  chaplet  of  the  poor  novice,  as  she 
crossed  the  fatal  threshold  and  disappeared  within  the 
building.  The  throng  poured  in  with  cowl,  and  cross, 
and  minstrelsy ;  the  lover  paused  for  a  moment  at  the 
door.  I  could  divine  the  tumult  of  his  feelings  ;  but  he 
mastered  them,  and  entered.  There  was  a  long  interval. 
I  pictured  to  myself  the  scene  passing  within :  the  poor 
novice  despoiled  of  her  transient  finery,  and  clothed  in 
the  conventual  garb  ;  the  bridal  chaplet  taken  from  her 
brow,  and  her  beautiful  head  shorn  of  its  long  silken 
tresses.  I  heard  her  murmur  the  irrevocable  vow.  I 
saw  her  extended  on  a  bier ;  the  death-pall  spread  over 
her  ;  the  funeral  service  performed  that  proclaimed  her 
dead  to  the  world ;  her  sighs  were  drowned  in  the  deep 
tones  of  the  organ,  and  the  plaintive  requiem  of  the 
nuns ;  the  father  looked  on,  unmoved,  without  a  tear ; 
the  lover — no — my  imagination  refused  to  portray  the 
anguish  of  the  lover  —  there  the  picture  remained  a 
blank. 

After  a  time  the  throng  again  poured  forth,  and  dis= 
persed  various  ways,  to  enjoy  the  light  of  the  sun  and 
mingle  with  the  stirring  scenes  of  life  ;  but  the  victim, 
with  her  bridal  chaplet,  was  no  longer  there.  The  door 
of  the  convent  closed  that  severed  her  from  the  world 
forever.  I  saw  the  father  and  the  lover  issue  forth ; 
they  were  in  earnest  conversation.     The  latter  was  vehe- 


142  THE  ALEAMBBA. 

ment  in  his  gesticulations ;  I  expected  some  violent  ter- 
mination to  my  drama  ;  but  an  angle  of  a  building  inter- 
fered and  closed  the  scene.  My  eye  afterwards  was 
frequently  turned  to  that  convent  with  painful  interest. 
I  remarked  late  at  night  a  solitary  light  twinkling  from 
a  remote  lattice  of  one  of  its  towers.  "There,"  said  I, 
"  the  unhappy  nun  sits  weeping  in  her  cell,  while  per- 
haps her  lover  paces  the  street  below  in  unavailing  an- 
guish." 

— The  officious  Mateo  interrupted  my  meditations  and 
destroyed  in  an  instant  the  cobweb  tissue  of  my  fancy. 
With  his  usual  zeal  he  had  gathered  facts  concerning  the 
scene,  which  put  my  fictions  all  to  flight.  The  heroine 
of  my  romance  was  neither  young  nor  handsome ;  she 
had  no  lover;  she  had  entered  the  convent  of  her  own 
free  will,  as  a  respectable  asylum,  and  was  one  of  the 
most  cheerful  residents  within  its  walls. 

It  was  some  little  while  before  I  could  forgive  the 
wrong  done  me  by  the  nun  in  being  thus  happy  in  her 
cell,  in  contradiction  to  all  the  rules  of  romance ;  I  di- 
verted my  spleen,  however,  by  watching,  for  a  day  or 
two,  the  pretty  coquetries  of  a  dark-eyed  brunette,  who, 
from  the  covert  of  a  balcony  shrouded  with  flowering 
shrubs  and  a  silken  awning,  was  carrying  on  a  mysterious 
correspondence  with  a  handsome,  dark,  well-whiskered 
cavalier,  who  lurked  frequently  in  the  street  beneath  her 
window.  Sometimes  I  saw  him  at  an  early  hour,  steal- 
ing forth  wrapped  to  the  eyes  in  a  mantle.     Sometimes 


THE  CHANGES  OF  THE  DAT.  143 

he  loitered  at  a  corner,  in  various  disguises,  apparently 
waiting  for  a  private  signal  to  slip  into  the  house.  Then 
there  was  the  tinkling  of  a  guitar  at  night  and  a  lantern 
shifted  from  place  to  place  in  the  balcony.  I  imagined 
another  intrigue  like  that  of  Almaviva,  but  was  again 
disconcerted  in  all  my  suppositions.  The  supposed  lover 
turned  out  to  be  the  husband  of  the  lady,  and  a  noted 
contrabandista ;  and  all  his  mysterious  signs  and  move- 
ments had  doubtless  some  smuggling  scheme  in  view. 

— I  occasionally  amused  myself  with  noting  from  this 
balcony  the  gradual  changes  of  the  scenes  below,  accord- 
ing to  the  different  stages  of  the  day. 

Scarce  has  the  gray  dawn  streaked  the  sky,  and  the 
earliest  cock  crowed  from  the  cottages  of  the  hill-side, 
when  the  suburbs  give  sign  of  reviving  animation;  for 
the  fresh  hours  of  dawning  are  precious  in  the  summer 
season  in  a  sultry  climate.  All  are  anxious  to  get  the 
start  of  the  sun,  in  the  business  of  the  day.  The  mule- 
teer drives  forth  his  loaded  train  for  the  journey;  the 
traveller  slings  his  carbine  behind  his  saddle,  and 
mounts  his  steed  at  the  gate  of  the  hostel ;  the  brown 
peasant  from  the  country  urges  forward  his  loitering 
beasts,  laden  with  panniers  of  sunny  fruit  and  fresh  dewy 
vegetables,  for  already  the  thrifty  housewives  are  hasten- 
ing to  the  market. 

The  sun  is  up  and  sparkles  along  the  valley,  tipping 
the  transparent  foliage  of  the  groves.  The  matin  bells 
resound   melodiously   through  the  pure   bright   air,  an- 


IM  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

nouncing  tlie  hour  of  devotion.  The  muleteer  halts  his 
burdened  animals  before  the  chapel,  thrusts  his  staff 
through  his  belt  behind,  and  enters  with  hat  in  hand, 
smoothing  his  coal-black  hair,  to  hear  a  mass,  and  to  put 
up  a  prayer  for  a  prosperous  wayfaring  across  the  sierra. 
And  now  steals  forth  on  fairy  foot  the  gentle  Senora,  in 
trim  basquina,  with  restless  fan  in  hand,  and  dark  eye 
flashing  from  beneath  the  gracefully  folded  mantilla ;  she 
seeks  some  well-frequented  church  to  offer  up  her  morn- 
ing orisons  ;  but  the  nicely  adjusted  dress,  the  dainty 
shoe  and  cobweb  stocking,  the  raven  tresses  exquisitely 
braided,  the  fresh-plucked  rose,  gleaming  among  them 
like  a  gem,  show  that  earth  divides  with  Heaven  the  em- 
pire of  her  thoughts.  Keep  an  eye  upon  her,  careful 
mother,  or  virgin  aunt,  or  vigilant  duenna,  whichever  you 
may  be,  that  walk  behind  ! 

As  the  morning  advances,  the  din  of  labor  augments  on 
every  side  ;  the  streets  are  thronged  with  man,  and  steed, 
and  beast  of  burden,  and  there  is  a  hum  and  murmur, 
like  the  surges  of  the  ocean.  As  the  sun  ascends  to  his 
meridian,  the  hum  and  bustle  gradually  decline ;  at  the 
height  of  noon  there  is  a  pause.  The  panting  city  sinlfs 
into  lassitude,  and  for  several  hours  there  is  a  general  re- 
pose. The  windows  are  closed,  the  curtains  drawn,  the 
inhabitants  retired  into  the  coolest  recesses  of  their  man- 
sions ;  the  full-fed  monk  snores  in  his  dormitory ;  the 
brawny  porter  lies  stretched  on  the  pavement  beside  his 
burden ;  the  peasant  and  the  laborer  sleep  beneath  the 


THE  CHANGES  OF  THE  DAT.  145 

trees  of  the  Alameda,  lulled  by  the  sultry  chirping  of  the 
locust.  The  streets  are  deserted,  except  by  the  water- 
carrier,  who  refreshes  the  ear  by  proclaiming  the  merits 
of  his  sparkling  beverage,  "  colder  than  the  mountain 
snow  (masfria  que  la  nievej." 

As  the  sun  declines,  there  is  again  a  gradual  reviving, 
and  when  the  vesper  bell  rings  out  his  sinking  knell, 
all  nature  seems  to  rejoice  that  the  tyrant  of  the  day  has 
fallen.  Now  begins  the  bustle  of  enjoyment,  when  the 
citizens  pour  forth  to  breathe  the  evening  air,  and  revel 
away  the  brief  twilight  in  the  walks  and  gardens  of  the 
Darro  and  Xenil. 

As  night  closes,  the  capricious  scene  assumes  new  fea- 
tures. Light  after  light  gradually  twinkles  forth  ;  here  a 
taper  from  a  balconied  window  ;  there  a  votive  lamp  be- 
fore the  image  of  a  Saint.  Thus,  by  degrees,  the  city 
emerges  from  the  pervading  gloom,  and  sparkles  with 
scattered  lights,  like  the  starry  firmament.  Now  break 
forth  from  court  and  garden,  and  street  and  lane,  the 
tinkling  of  innumerable  guitars,  and  the  clicking  of 
castanets  ;  blending,  at  this  lofty  height,  in  a  faint  but 
general  concert.  "  Enjoy  the  moment "  is  the  creed  of 
the  gay  and  amorous  Andalusian,  and  at  no  time  does  he 
practise  it  more  zealously  than  on  the  balmy  nights  of 
summer,  wooing  his  mistress  with  the  dance,  the  love- 
ditty,  and  the  passionate  serenade. 

I  was  one  evening  seated  in  the  balcony,  enjoying  the 
light  breeze  that  came  rustling  along  the  side  of  the  hill, 
10 


146  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

among  the  tree-tops,  when  my  humble  historiographer 
Mateo,  who  was  at  my  elbow,  pointed  out  a  spacious 
house,  in  an  obscure  street  of  the  Albaycin,  about  which 
he  related,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recollect,  the  following 
anecdote. 


THE  ADVENTUEE  OF  THE  MASON, 

JHEEE  was  once  upon  a  time  a  poor  mason,  or 
bricklayer,  in  Granada,  who  kept  all  the  saints' 
days  and  holidays,  and  Saint  Monday  into  the 
bargain,  and  yet,  with  all  his  devotion,  he  grew  poorer 
and  poorer,  and  could  scarcely  earn  bread  for  his  nu- 
merous family.  One  night  he  was  roused  from  his  first 
sleep  by  a  knocking  at  his  door.  He  opened  it,  and 
beheld  before  him  a  tall,  meagre,  cadaverous-looking 
priest. 

"  '  Hark  ye,  honest  friend  ! '  said  the  stranger  ;  '  I  have 
observed  that  you  are  a  good  Christian,  and  one  to  be 
trusted  ;  will  you  undertake  a  job  this  very  night  ?  ' 

"  '  With  all  my  heart,  Senor  Padre,  on  condition  that  I 
am  paid  accordingly.' 

"  '  That  you  shall  be  ;  but  you  must  suffer  yourself  to 
be  blindfolded.' 

"  To  this  the  mason  made  no  objection.  So,  being 
hoodwinked,  he  was  led  by  the  priest  through  various 
rough  lanes  and  winding  passages,  until  they  stopped  be- 
fore the  portal  of  a  house.  The  priest  then  applied  a 
key,  turned  a  creaking  lock,  and  opened  what  sounded 

147 


14:8  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

like  a  ponderous  door.  Tliey  entered,  the  door  was 
closed  and  bolted,  and  the  mason  was  conducted  through 
an  echoing  corridor  and  a  spacious  hall  to  an  interior 
part  of  the  building.  Here  the  bandage  was  removed 
from  his  eyes,  and  he  found  himself  in  a  patio,  or  court, 
dimly  lighted  by  a  single  lamp.  In  the  centre  was  the 
dry  basin  of  an  old  Moorish  fountain,  under  which  the 
priest  requested  him  to  form  a  small  vault,  bricks  and 
mortar  being  at  hand  for  the  purpose.  He  accordingly 
worked  all  night,  but  without  finishing  the  job.  Just 
before  daybreak  the  priest  put  a  piece  of  gold  into  his 
hand,  and  having  again  blindfolded  him,  conducted  him 
back  to  his  dwelling. 

"*Are  you  willing,'  said  he,  'to  return  and  complete 
your  work  ? ' 

"  *  Gladly,  Seiior  Padre,  provided  I  am  so  well  paid.' 
" '  Well,  then,  to-morrow  at  midnight  I  will  call  again.' 
"  He  did  so,  and  the  vault  was  completed. 
" '  Now,'  said  the  priest,  '  you  must  help  me  to  bring 
forth  the  bodies  that  are  to  be  buried  in  this  vault.' 

"  The  poor  mason's  hair  rose  on  his  head  at  these 
words :  he  followed  the  priest,  with  trembling  steps,  into 
a  retired  chamber  of  the  mansion,  expecting  to  behold 
some  ghastly  spectacle  of  death,  but  was  relieved  on  per- 
ceiving three  or  four  portly  jars  standing  in  one  corner. 
They  were  evidently  full  of  money,  and  it  was  with  great 
labor  that  he  and  the  priest  carried  them  forth  and  con- 
signed them  to  their  tomb.     The  vault  was  then  closed, 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  MASON.  149 

the  pavement  replaced,  and  all  traces  of  the  work  were 
obliterated.  The  mason  was  again  hoodwinked  and  led 
forth  by  a  route  different  from  that  by  which  he  had 
come.  After  they  had  wandered  for  a  long  time  through 
a  perplexed  maze  of  lanes  and  alleys,  they  halted.  The 
priest  then  put  two  pieces  of  gold  into  his  hand  :  '  Wait 
here,'  said  he,  '  until  you  hear  the  cathedral  bell  toll  for 
matins.  If  you  presume  to  uncover  your  eyes  before 
that  time,  evil  will  befall  you  : '  so  saying,  he  departed. 
The  mason  waited  faithfully,  amusing  himself  by  weigh- 
ing the  gold  pieces  in  his  hand,  and  clinking  them 
against  each  other.  The  moment  the  cathedral  bell  rang 
its  matin  peal,  he  uncovered  his  eyes,  and  found  himself 
on  the  banks  of  the  Xenil ;  whence  he  made  the  best  of 
his  way  home,  and  revelled  with  his  family  for  a  whole 
fortnight  on  the  profits  of  his  two  nights'  work;  after 
which  he  was  as  poor  as  ever. 

"  He  continued  to  work  a  little,  and  pray  a  good  deal, 
and  keep  saints'  days  and  holidays,  from  year  to  year, 
while  his  family  grew  up  as  gaunt  and  ragged  as  a  crew 
of  gipsies.  As  he  was  seated  one  evening  at  the  door  of 
his  hovel,  he  was  accosted  by  a  rich  old  curmudgeon, 
who  was  noted  for  owning  many  houses,  and  being  a 
griping  landlord.  The  man  of  money  eyed  him  for  a  mo- 
ment from  beneath  a  pair  of  anxious  shagged  eyebrows. 
"  ^I  am  told,  friend,  that  you  are  very  poor.' 
"  '  There  is  no  denying  the  fact,  senor, — it  speaks  for 
itself.' 


150  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

"  *  I  presume,  then,  that  you  will  be  glad  of  a  job,  and 
will  work  cheap.' 

"  'As  cheap,  my  master,  as  any  mason  in  Granada.' 
" '  That's  what  I  want.  I  have  an  old  house  fallen 
into  decay,  which  costs  me  more  money  than  it  is  worth 
to  keep  it  in  repair,  for  nobody  will  live  in  it  ;  so  I  must 
contrive  to  patch  it  up  and  keep  it  together  at  as  small 
expense  as  possible.' 

"The  mason  was  accordingly  conducted  to  a  large 
deserted  house  that  seemed  going  to  ruin.  Passing 
through  several  empty  halls  and  chambers,  he  entered 
an  inner  court,  where  his  eye  was  caught  by  an  old 
Moorish  fountain.  He  paused  for  a  moment,  for  a 
dreaming  recollection  of  the  place  came  over  him. 

"  *  Pray,'  said  he,  *  who  occupied  this  house  formerly  ? ' 
"  '  A  pest  upon  him  ! '  cried  the  landlord ;  *  it  was  an 
old  miserly  priest,  who  cared  for  nobody  but  himself. 
He  was  said  to  be  immensely  rich,  and,  having  no  rela- 
tions, it  was  thought  he  would  leave  all  his  treasures  to 
the  Church.  He  died  suddenly,  and  the  priests  and 
friars  thronged  to  take  possession  of  his  wealth  ;  but 
nothing  could  they  find  but  a  few  ducats  in  a  leathern 
purse.  The  worst  luck  has  fallen  on  me,  for,  since  his 
death,  the  old  fellow  continues  to  occupy  my  house  with- 
out paying  rent,  and  there  is  no  taking  the  law  of  a  dead 
man.  The  people  pretend  to  hear  the  clinking  of  gold 
all  night  in  the  chamber  where  the  old  priest  slept,  as  if 
he   were   counting   over   his    money,   and    sometimes   a 


THE  AD  VENTURE  OF  THE  MASON.  151 

groaning  and  moaning  about  the  court.  Whether  true 
or  false,  these  stories  have  brought  a  bad  name  on  my 
house,  and  not  a  tenant  will  remain  in  it.' 

"'Enough,'  said  the  mason  sturdily:  *  let  me  live  in 
your  house  rent-free  until  some  better  tenant  present, 
and  I  will  engage  to  put  it  in  repair,  and  to  quiet  the 
troubled  spirit  that  disturbs  it.  I  am  a  good  Christian 
and  a  poor  man,  and  am  not  to  be  daunted  by  the  Devil 
himself,  even  though  he  should  come  in  the  shape  of  a 
big  bag  of  money  ! ' 

"The  offer  of  the  honest  mason  was  gladly  accepted; 
he  moved  with  his  family  into  the  house,  and  fulfilled  all 
his  engagements.  By  little  and  little  he  restored  it  to 
its  former  state  ;  the  clinking  of  gold  was  no  more  heard 
at  night  in  the  chamber  of  the  defunct  priest,  but  began 
to  be  heard  by  day  in  the  pocket  of  the  living  mason. 
In  a  word,  he  increased  rapidly  in  wealth,  to  the  admi- 
ration of  all  his  neighbors,  and  became  one  of  the  rich- 
est men  in  Granada  :  he  gave  large  sums  to  the  Church, 
by  way,  no  doubt,  of  satisfying  his  conscience,  and  never 
revealed  the  secret  of  the  vault  until  on  his  death-bed  to 
his  son  and  heir." 


THE    COURT    OP   LIONS. 

HE  peculiar  cliarm  of  this  old  dreamy  palace  is 
its  power  of  calling  up  vague  reveries  and  pic- 
turings  of  the  past,  and  thus  clothing  naked 
realities  with  the  illusions  of  the  memory  and  the  imagi- 
nation. As  I  delight  to  walk  in  these  "vain  shadows,"  I 
am  prone  to  seek  those  parts  of  the  Alhambra  which  are 
most  favorable  to  this  phantasmagoria  of  the  mind ;  and 
none  are  more  so  than  the  Court  of  Lions,  and  its  sur~ 
rounding  halls.  Here  the  hand  of  time  has  fallen  the 
lightest,  and  the  traces  of  Moorish  elegance  and  splendor 
exist  in  almost  their  original  brilliancy.  Earthquakes 
have  shaken  the  foundations  of  this  pile,  and  rent  its 
rudest  towers ;  yet  see  !  not  one  of  those  slender  columns 
has  been  displaced,  not  an  arch  of  that  light  and  fragile 
colonnade  given  way,  and  all  the  fairy  fretwork  of  these 
domes,  apparently  as  unsubstantial  as  the  crystal  fabrics 
of  a  morning's  frost,  exist  after  the  lapse  of  centuries, 
almost  as  fresh  as  if  from  the  hand  of  the  Moslem  artist. 
I  write  in  the  midst  of  these  mementos  of  the  past,  in 
the  fresh  hour  of  early  morning,  in  the  fated  Hall  of  the 
Abencerrages.    The  blood-stained  fountain,  the  legendary 

153 


THE  COURT  OF  LIONS.  153 

monument  of  their  massacre,  is  before  me ;  the  loftj  jet 
almost  casts  its  dew  upon  my  paper.  How  difficult  to 
reconcile  the  ancient  tale  of  violence  and  blood  with  the 
gentle  and  peaceful  scene  around !  Everything  here  ap- 
pears calculated  to  inspire  kind  and  happy  feelings,  for 
everyt.hing  is  delicate  and  beautiful.  The  very  light  falls 
tenderly  from  above,  through  the  lantern  of  a  dome 
tinted  and  wrought  as  if  by  fairy  hands.  Through  the 
ample  and  fretted  arch  of  the  portal  I  behold  the  Court 
of  Lions,  with  brilliant  sunshine  gleaming  along  its 
colonnades  and  sparkling  in  its  fountains.  The  lively 
swallow  dives  into  the  court,  and,  rising  with  a  surge, 
darts  away  twittering  over  the  roofs ;  the  busy  bee  toils 
humming  among  the  flower-beds  ;  and  painted  butterflies 
hover  from  plant  to  plant,  and  flutter  up  and  sport  with 
each  other  in  the  sunny  air.  It  needs  but  a  slight  ex- 
ertion of  the  fancy  to  picture  some  pensive  beauty  of  the 
harem,  loitering  in  these  secluded  haunts  of  Oriental 
luxury. 

He,  however,  who  would  behold  this  scene  under  an 
aspect  more  in  unison  with  its  fortunes,  let  him  come 
when  the  shadows  of  evening  temper  the  brightness  of 
the  court,  and  throw  a  gloom  into  the  surrounding  halls. 
Then  nothing  can  be  more  serenely  melancholy,  or  more 
in  harmony  with  the  tale  of  departed  grandeur. 

At  such  times  I  am  apt  to  seek  the  Hall  of  Justice, 
whose  deep  shadowy  arcades  extend  across  the  upper 
end  of  the  court.     Here  was  performed,  in  presence  of 


154  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Ferdinand  and  Isabella  and  their  triumphant  conrt,  the 
pompous  ceremonial  of  high  mass,  on  taking  possession 
of  the  Alhambra.  The  very  cross  is  still  to  be  seen  upon 
the  wall,  where  the  altar  was  erected,  and  where  offi- 
ciated the  Grand  Cardinal  of  Spain,  and  others  of  the 
highest  religious  dignitaries  of  the  land.  I  picture  to 
myself  the  scene  when  this  place  was  filled  with  the  con- 
quering host,  that  mixture  of  mitred  prelate  and  shaven 
monk,  and  steel-clad  knight  and  silken  courtier ;  when 
crosses  and  crosiers  and  religious  standards  were  min- 
gled with  proud  armorial  ensigns  and  the  banners  of  the 
haughty  chiefs  of  Spain,  and  flaunted  in  triumph  through, 
these  Moslem  lialls.  I  picture  to  myself  Columbus,  the 
future  discoverer  of  a  world,  taking  his  modest  stand  in 
a  remote  corner,  the  humble  and  neglected  spectator  of 
the  pageant.  I  see  in  imagination  the  Catholic  sove- 
reigns prostrating  themselves  before  the  altar,  and  pour- 
ing forth  thanks  for  their  victory ;  while  the  vaults  re- 
sound with  sacred  minstrelsy,  and  the  deep-toned  Te 
Deum. 

The  transient  illusion  is  over, — the  pageant  melts  from 
the  fancy, — monarch,  priest,  and  warrior  return  into  ob- 
livion with  the  poor  Moslems  over  /whom  they  exulted. 
The  hall  of  their  triumph  is  waste  and  desolate.  The 
bat  flits  about  its  twilight  vault,  and  the  owl  hoots  from 
the  neighboring  tower  of  Comares. 

Entering  the  Court  of  the  Lions  a  few  evenings  since, 
I  was  almost  startled  at  beholding  a  turbaned  Moor 


A  MOOR  IN  THE  COURT  OF  LIONS.  I55 

quietly  seated  near  the  fountain.  For  a  moment  one  of 
the  fictions  of  the  place  seemed  realized :  an  enchanted 
Moor  had  broken  the  spell  of  centuries,  and  become  vis- 
ible. He  proved,  however,  to  be  a  mere  ordinary  mor= 
tal :  a  native  of  Tetuan  in  Barbary,  who  had  a  shop  in 
the  Zacatin  of  Granada,  where  he  sold  rhubarb,  trinkets, 
and  perfumes.  As  he  spoke  Spanish  fluently,  I  was  en- 
abled to  hold  conversation  with  him,  and  found  him 
shrewd  and  intelligent.  He  told  me  that  he  came  up  the 
hill  occasionally  in  the  summer,  to  pass  a  part  of  the  day 
in  the  Alhambra,  which  reminded  him  of  the  old  palaces 
in  Barbary,  being  built  and  adorned  in  similar  style, 
though  with  more  magnificence. 

As  we  walked  about  the  palace,  he  pointed  out  several 
of  the  Arabic  inscriptions,  as  possessing  much  poetic 
beauty. 

"Ah,  senor,"  said  he,  "when  the  Moors  held  Granada, 
they  were  a  gayer  people  than  they  are  nowadays.  They 
thought  only  of  love,  music,  and  poetry.  They  made 
stanzas  upon  every  occasion,  and  set  them  all  to  music. 
He  who  could  make  the  best  verses,  and  she  who  had  the 
most  tuneful  voice,  might  be  sure  of  favor  and  prefer- 
ment. In  those  days,  if  any  one  asked  for  bread,  the  re- 
ply was,  make  me  a  couplet ;  and  the  poorest  beggar,  if 
he  begged  in  rhyme,  would  often  be  rewarded  with  a 
piece  of  gold." 

"  And  is  the  popular  feeling  for  poetry,"  said  I,  "  en- 
tirely lost  among  you  ?  " 


156  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

"  By  no  means,  seiior ;  the  people  of  Barbary,  even 
those  of  the  lower  classes,  still  make  couplets,  and  good 
ones  too,  as  in  old  times ;  but  talent  is  not  rewarded  as 
it  was  then ;  the  rich  prefer  the  jingle  of  their  gold  to  the 
sound  of  poetry  or  music." 

As  he  was  talking,  his  eye  caught  one  of  the  inscrip- 
tions which  foretold  perpetuity  to  the  power  and  glory 
of  the  Moslem  monarchs,  the  masters  of  this  pile.  He 
shook  his  head,  and  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  he  inter- 
preted it.  "  Such  might  have  been  the  case,"  said  he  ; 
"  the  Moslems  might  still  have  been  reigning  in  the  Al- 
hambra,  had  not  Boabdil  been  a  traitor,  and  given  up  his 
capital  to  the  Christians.  The  Spanish  monarchs  would 
never  have  been  able  to  conquer  it  by  open  force." 

I  endeavored  to  vindicate  the  memory  of  the  unlucky 
Boabdil  from  this  aspersion,  and  to  show  that  the  dis- 
sensions which  led  to  the  downfall  of  the  Moorish  throne 
originated  in  the  cruelty  of  his  tiger-hearted  father  ;  but 
the  Moor  would  admit  of  no  palliation. 

"  Muley  Abul  Hassan,"  said  he,  "  might  have  been 
cruel ;  but  he  was  brave,  vigilant,  and  patriotic.  Had  he 
been  properly  seconded,  Granada  would  still  have  been 
ours  ;  but  his  son  Boabdil  thwarted  his  plans,  crippled 
his  power,  sowed  treason  in  his  palace,  and  dissension  in 
his  camp.  May  the  curse  of  God  light  upon  him  for  his 
treachery !  "  With  these  words  the  Moor  left  the  Al- 
hambra. 

The    indignation   of  my   turbaned   companion   agrees 


THE  PACHA   OF  TETTJAN.  I57 

witli  an  anecdote  related  by  a  friend,  who,  in  the  course 
of  a  tour  in  Barbary,  had  an  interview  with  the  Pacha  of 
Tetuan.  The  Moorish  governor  was  particular  in  his  in- 
quiries about  Spain,  and  especially  concerning  the  fa- 
vored region  of  Andalusia,  the  delights  of  Granada,  and 
the  remains  of  its  royal  palace.  The  replies  awakened 
all  those  fond  recollections,  so  deeply  cherished  by  the 
Moors,  of  the  power  and  splendor  of  their  ancient  em- 
pire in  Spain.  Turning  to  his  Moslem  attendants,  the 
Pacha  stroked  his  beard,  and  broke  forth  in  passionate 
lamentations,  that  such  a  sceptre  should  have  fallen  from 
the  sway  of  true  believers.  He  consoled  himself,  how- 
ever, with  the  persuasion,  that  the  power  and  prosperity 
of  the  Spanish  nation  were  on  the  decline  ;  that  a  time 
would  come  when  the  Moors  would  conquer  their  right- 
ful domains  ;  and  that  the  day  was  perhaps  not  far  dis- 
tant when  Mohammedan  worship  would  again  be  offered 
up  in  the  mosque  of  Cordova,  and  a  Mohammedan  prince 
sit  on  his  throne  in  the  Alhambra. 

Such  is  the  general  aspiration  and  belief  among  the 
Moors  of  Barbary  ;  who  consider  Spain,  or  Andaluz,  as  it 
was  anciently  called,  their  rightful  heritage,  of  which 
they  have  been  despoiled  by  treachery  and  violence. 
These  ideas  are  fostered  and  perpetuated  by  the  descend- 
ants of  the  exiled  Moors  of  Granada,  scattered  among 
the  cities  of  Barbary.  Several  of  these  reside  in  Tetuan, 
preserving  their  ancient  names,  such  as  Paez  and  Me- 
dina, and  refraining  from  intermarriage  with  any  families 


158  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

who  cannot  claim  the  same  high  origin.  Their  vaunted 
lineage  is  regarded  with  a  degree  of  popular  deference 
rarely  shown  in  Mohammedan  communities  to  any  he- 
reditary distinction,  excepting  in  the  royal  line. 

These  families,  it  is  said,  continue  to  sigh  after  the 
terrestrial  paradise  of  their  ancestors,  and  to  put  up 
prayers  in  their  mosques  on  Fridays,  imploring  Allah  to 
hasten  the  time  when  Granada  shall  be  restored  to  the 
faithful :  an  event  to  which  they  look  forward  as  fondly 
and  confidently  as  did  the  Christian  crusaders  to  the 
recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  Nay,  it  is  added,  that 
some  of  them  retain  the  ancient  maps  and  deeds  of  the 
estates  and  gardens  of  their  ancestors  at  Granada,  and 
even  the  keys  of  the  houses ;  holding  them  as  evidences 
of  their  hereditary  claims,  to  be  produced  at  the  antici- 
pated day  of  restoration. 

My  conversation  with  the  Moors  set  me  to  musing  on 
the  fate  of  Boabdil.  Never  was  surname  more  appli- 
cable than  that  bestowed  upon  him  by  his  subjects  of  el 
Zogoybi,  or  the  Unlucky.  His  misfortunes  began  almost 
in  his  cradle,  and  ceased  not  even  with  his  death.  If  ever 
he  cherished  the  desire  of  leaving  an  honorable  name  on 
the  historic  page,  how  cruelly  has  he  been  defrauded  of 
his  hopes  !  Who  is  there  that  has  turned  the  least  atten- 
tion to  the  romantic  history  of  the  Moorish  domination  in 
Spain,  without  'kindling  with  indignation  at  the  alleged 
atrocities  of  Boabdil  ?  Who  has  not  been  touched  with 
the  woes  of  his  lovely  and  gentle  queen,  subjected  by 


BOABDIL  SLANDERED.  159 

him  to  a  trial  of  life  and  death,  on  a  false  charge  of  infi- 
delity ?  "Who  has  not  been  shocked  by  his  alleged  mur- 
der of  his  sister  and  her  two  children,  in  a  transport  of 
passion  ?  "Who  has  not  felt  his  blood  boil  at  the  inhu- 
man massacre  of  the  gallant  Abencerrages,  thirty-six  of 
whom,  it  is  affirmed,  he  ordered  to  be  beheaded  in  the 
Court  of  Lions  ?  All  these  charges  have  been  reiterated 
in  various  forms ;  they  have  passed  into  ballads,  dramas, 
and  romances,  until  they  have  taken  too  thorough  pos- 
session of  the  public  mind  to  be  eradicated.  There  is 
not  a  foreigner  of  education  that  visits  the  Alhambra, 
but  asks  for  the  fountain  where  the  Abencerrages  were 
beheaded ;  and  gazes  with  horror  at  the  grated  gallery 
where  the  queen  is  said  to  have  been  confined  ;  not  a 
peasant  of  the  Yega  or  the  Sierra,  but  sings  the  story  in 
rude  couplets,  to  the  accompaniment  of  his  guitar,  while 
his  hearers  learn  to  execrate  the  very  name  of  Boabdil. 

Never,  however,  was  name  more  foully  and  unjustly 
slandered.  I  have  examined  all  the  authentic  chronicles 
and  letters  written  by  Spanish  authors,  contemporary 
with  Boabdil ;  some  of  whom  were  in  the  confidence  of 
the  Catholic  sovereigns,  and  actually  present  in  the  camp 
throughout  the  war.  I  have  examined  all  the  Arabian 
authorities  I  could  get  access  to,  through  the  medium  of 
translation,  and  have  found  nothing  to  justify  these  dark 
and  hateful  accusations.  The  most  of  these  tales  may  be 
traced  to  a  work  commonly  called  "  The  Civil  Wars  of 
Granada,"  containing  a  pretended  history  of  the  feuds  of 


160  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

the  Zegries  and  Abencerrages,  during  tlie  last  struggle  ci 
the  Moorish  empire.  The  work  appeared  originally  in 
Spanish,  and  professed  to  be  translated  from  the  Arabic 
by  one  Gines  Perez  de  Hita,  an  inhabitant  of  Murcia.  It 
has  since  passed  into  various  languages,  and  Florian  has 
taken  from  it  much  of  the  fable  of  his  Gonsalvo  of  Cor= 
dova :  it  has  thus,  in  a  great  measure,  usurped  the 
authority  of  real  history,  and  is  currently  belieyed  by 
the  people,  and  especially  the  peasantry  of  Granada. 
The  whole  of  it,  however,  is  a  mass  of  fiction,  mingled 
with  a  few  disfigured  truths,  which  give  it  an  air  of 
veracity.  It  bears  internal  evidence  of  its  falsity ;  the 
manners  and  customs  of  the  Moors  being  extravagantly 
misrepresented  in  it,  and  scenes  depicted  totally  incom- 
patible with  their  habits  and  their  faith,  and  which  never 
could  have  been  recorded  by  a  Mohammedan  writer. 

I  confess  there  seems  to  me  something  almost  criminal 
in  the  wilful  perversions  of  this  work :  great  latitude  is 
undoubtedly  to  be  allowed  to  romantic  fiction,  but  there 
are  limits  which  it  mast  not  pass  ;  and  the  names  of  the 
distinguished  dead,  which  belong  to  history,  are  no  more 
to  be  calumniated  than  those  of  the  illustrious  living. 
One  would  have  thought,  too,  that  the  unfortunate  Boab- 
dil  had  suffered  enough  for  his  justifiable  hostility  to  the 
Spaniards,  by  being  stripped  of  his  kingdom,  without 
having  his  name  thus  wantonly  traduced^  and  rendered 
a  by-word  and  a  theme  of  infamy  in  his  native  land,  and 
in  the  very  mansion  of  his  fathers ! 


BOABDIL  SLANDERED.  161 

If  the  reader  is  sufficiently  interested  in  these  ques- 
tions to  tolerate  a  little  historical  detail,  the  following 
facts,  gleaned  from  what  appear  to  be  authentic  sources, 
and  tracing  the  fortunes  of  the  Abencerrages,  may  serve 
to  exculpate  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  from  the  perfidious 
massacre  of  that  illustrious  line  so  shamelessly  charged 
to  him.  It  will  also  serve  to  throw  a  proper  light  upoEi 
the  alleged  accusation  and  imprisonment  of  his  queen, 
11 


THE    ABENCERRAGES. 

GKAND  line  of  distinction  existed  among  the 
Moslems  of  Spain,  between  those  of  Orienta] 
origin  and  those  from  Western  Africa.  Among 
the  former  the  Arabs  considered  themselves  the  purest 
race,  as  being  descended  from  the  countrymen  of  the 
Prophet,  who  first  raised  the  standard  of  Islam ;  among 
the  latter,  the  most  warlike  and  powerful  were  the  Ber- 
ber tribes  from  Mount  Atlas  and  the  deserts  of  Sahara, 
commonly  known  as  Moors,  who  subdued  the  tribes  of 
the  sea-coast,  founded  the  city  of  Morocco,  and  for  a  long 
time  disputed  with  the  Oriental  races  the  control  of  Mos- 
lem Spain. 

Among  the  Oriental  races  the  Abencerrages  held  a  dis- 
tinguished rank,  priding  themselves  on  a  pure  Arab  de= 
scent  from  the  Beni  Seraj,  one  of  the  tribes  who  were 
Ansares  or  Companions  of  the  Prophet.  The  Abencer- 
rages flourished  for  a  time  at  Cordova  ;  but  probably 
repaired  to  Granada  after  the  downfall  of  the  Western 
Caliphat ;  it  was  there  they  attained  their  historical  and 
romantic  celebrity,  being  foremost  among  the  splendid 
chivalry  which  graced  the  court  of  the  Alhambra. 

162 


THE  ABENGEBBAGES.  163 

Their  highest  and  most  dangerous  prosperity  was  dur- 
ing the  precarious  reign  of  Muhamed  Nasar,  surnamed 
El  Hayzari,  or  the  Left-handed.  That  ill-starred  mon- 
arch, when  he  ascended  the  throne  in  1423,  lavished  his 
favors  upon  this  gallant  line,  making  the  head  of  the 
tribe,  Jusef  Aben  Zeragh,  his  vizier,  or  prime  minister, 
and  advancing  his  relatives  and  friends  to  the  most 
distinguished  posts  about  the  court.  This  gave  great 
offence  to  other  tribes,  and  caused  intrigues  among  their 
chiefs.  Muhamed  lost  popularity  also  by  his  manners. 
He  was  vain,  inconsiderate,  and  haughty ;  disdained  to 
mingle  among  his  subjects ;  forbade  those  jousts  and 
tournaments,  the  delight  of  high  and  low,  and  passed  his 
time  in  the  luxurious  retirement  of  the  Alhambra.  The 
consequence  was  a  popular  insurrection :  the  palace  was 
stormed  ;  the  king  escaped  through  the  gardens,  fled  to 
the  sea-coast,  crossed  in  disguise  to  Africa,  and  took 
refuge  with  his  kinsman,  the  sovereign  of  Tunis. 

Muhamed  el  Zaguer,  cousin  of  the  fugitive  monarch, 
took  possession  of  the  vacant  throne.  He  pursued  a  dif- 
ferent course  from  his  predecessor.  He  not  only  gave 
fetes  and  tourneys,  but  entered  the  lists  himself,  in  grand 
and  sumptuous  array ;  he  distinguished  himself  in  man- 
aging his  horse,  in  tilting,  riding  at  the  ring,  and  other 
chivalrous  exercises;  feasted  with  his  cavaliers,  and 
made  them  magnificent  presents. 

Those  who  had  been  in  favor  with  his  predecessor, 
now  experienced  a  reverse  ;  he  manifested  such  hostility 


164  THE  ALEAMBBA. 

to  them  that  more  than  five  hundred  of  the  principal 
cavaliers  left  the  city.  Jusef  Aben  Zeragh,  with  forty  of 
the  Abencerrages,  abandoned  Granada  in  the  night,  and 
sought  the  court  of  Juan  the  king  of  Castile.  Moved  by 
their  representations,  that  young  and  generous  monarch 
wrote  letters  to  the  sovereign  of  Tunis,  inviting  him  to 
assist  in  punishing  the  usurper  and  restoring  the  exiled 
king  to  his  throne.  The  faithful  and  indefatigable  vizier 
accompanied  the  bearer  of  these  letters  to  Tunis,  where 
he  rejoined  his  exiled  sovereign.  The  letters  were  suc- 
cessful. Muhamed  el  Hayzari  landed  in  Andalusia  with 
five  hundred  African  horse,  and  was  joined  by  the  Aben- 
cerrages and  others  of  his  adherents  and  by  his  Christian 
allies  ;  wherever  he  appeared  the  people  submitted  to 
him ;  troops  sent  against  him  deserted  to  his  standard ; 
Granada  was  recovered  without  a  blow;  the  usurper 
retreated  to  the  Alhambra,  but  was  beheaded  by  his  own 
soldiers  (1428),  after  reigning  between  two  and  three 
years. 

El  Hayzari,  once  more  on  the  throne,  heaped  honors 
on  the  loyal  vizier,  through  whose  faithful  services  he 
had  been  restored,  and  once  more  the  line  of  the  Aben- 
cerrages basked  in  the  sunshine  of  royal  favor.  El  Hay- 
zari sent  ambassadors  to  King  Juan,  thanking  him  for 
his  aid,  and  proposing  a  perpetual  league  of  amity.  The 
king  of  Castile  required  homage  and  yearly  tribute. 
These  the  left-handed  monarch  refused,  supposing  the 
youthful  king  too  much  engaged  in  civil  war  to  enforce 


DON  PEDRO    VENEQA8.  165 

his  claims.  Again  the  kingdom  of  Granada  was  harassed 
bj  invasions,  and  its  Yega  laid  waste.  Yarious  battles 
took  place  with  various  success.  But  El  Hayzari's  great- 
est danger  was  near  at  home.  There  was  at  that  time 
in  Granada  a  cavalier,  Don  Pedro  Yenegas  bj  name, 
a  Moslem  by  faith,  but  Christian  by  descent,  whose  early 
history  borders  on  romance.  He  was  of  the  noble  house 
of  Luque,  but  captured  when  a  child,  eight  years  of  age, 
by  Cid  Tahia  Alnayar,  prince  of  Almeria,^  who  adopted 
him  as  his  son,  educated  him  in  the  Moslem  faith,  and 
brought  him  up  among  his  children,  the  Celtimerian 
princes,  a  proud  family,  descended  in  direct  line  from 
Aben  Hud,  one  of  the  early  Granadian  kings.  A  mu= 
tual  attachment  sprang  up  between  Don  Pedro  and  the 
princess  Cetimerien,  a  daughter  of  Cid  Tahia,  famous 
for  her  beauty,  and  whose  name  is  perpetuated  by  the 
ruins  of  her  palace  in  Granada — still  bearing  traces  of 
Moorish  elegance  and  luxury.  In  process  of  time  they 
were  married ;  and  thus  a  scion  of  the  Spanish  house  of 
Luque  became  engrafted  on  the  royal  stock  of  Aben 
Hud. 

Such  is  the  early  story  of  Don  Pedro  Yenegas,  who  at 
the  time  of  which  we  treat  was  a  man  mature  in  years, 
and  of  an  active,  ambitious  spirit.  He  appears  to  have 
been  the  soul  of  a  conspiracy  set  on  foot  about  this  time, 
to  topple  Muhamed  the  Left-handed  from  his  unsteady 

*  AlcaDtara,  Hist.  Granad.,  O.  3,  p.  226,  note. 


166  THE  ALHAMBRA, 

throne,  and  elevate  in  liis  place  Yusef  Aben  Alhamar, 
the  eldest  of  the  Celtimerian  princes.  The  aid  of  the 
king  of  Castile  was  to  be  secured,  and  Don  Pedro  pro- 
ceeded on  a  secret  embassy  to  Cordova  for  the  purpose. 
He  informed  King  Juan  of  the  extent  of  the  conspiracy ; 
that  Yusef  Aben  Alhamar  could  bring  a  large  force  to  his 
standard  as  soon  as  he  should  appear  in  the  Vega,  and 
would  acknowledge  himself  his  vassal,  if  with  his  aid  he 
should  attain  the  crown.  The  aid  was  promised,  and 
Don  Pedro  hastened  back  to  Granada  with  the  tidings. 
The  conspirators  now  left  the  city,  a  few  at  a  time,  under 
various  pretexts ;  and  when  King  Juan  passed  the  fron- 
tier, Yusef  Aben  Alhamar  brought  eight  thousand  men 
to  his  standard,  and  kissed  his  hand  in  token  of  alle- 
giance. 

It  is  needless  to  recount  the  various  battles  by  which 
the  kingdom  was  desolated,  and  the  various  intrigues  by 
which  one  half  of  it  was  roused  to  rebellion.  The  Aben- 
cerrages  stood  by  the  failing  fortunes  of  Muhamed 
throughout  the  struggle ;  their  last  stand  was  at  Loxa, 
where  their  chief,  the  vizier  Yusef  Aben  Zeragh,  fell 
bravely  fighting,  and  many  of  their  noblest  cavaliers 
were  slain :  in  fact,  in  that  disastrous  war  the  fortunes 
of  the  family  were  nearly  wrecked. 

Again  the  ill-starred  Muhamed  was  driven  from  his 
throne,  and  took  refuge  in  Malaga,  the  alcayde  of  which 
still  remained  true  to  him. 

Yusef  Aben  Alhamar,  commonly  known  as  Yusef  II., 


YU8EF  ABEN  ALHAMAB.  167 

entered  Granada  in  triumph  on  the  first  of  January, 
1432,  but  he  found  it  a  melancholy  city,  where  half  of 
the  inhabitants  were  in  mourning.  Not  a  noble  family 
but  had  lost  some  member ;  and  in  the  slaughter  of  the 
Abencerrages  at  Loxa  had  fallen  some  of  the  brightest 
of  the  chivalry. 

The  royal  pageant  passed  through  silent  streets,  and 
the  barren  homage  of  a  court  in  the  halls  of  the  Alham- 
bra  ill  supplied  the  want  of  sincere  and  popular  devo- 
tion. Yusef  Aben  Alhamar  felt  the  insecurity  of  his 
position.  The  deposed  monarch  was  at  hand  in  Malaga; 
the  sovereign  of  Tunis  espoused  his  cause,  and  pleaded 
with  the  Christian  monarchs  in  his  favor;  above  all, 
Yusef  felt  his  own  unpopularity  in  Granada;  previous 
fatigues  had  impaired  his  health,  a  profound  melan- 
choly settled  upon  him,  and  in  the  course  of  six  months 
he  sank  into  the  grave. 

At  the  news  of  his  death,  Muhamed  the  Left-handed 
hastened  from  Malaga,  and  again  was  placed  on  the 
throne.  From  the  wrecks  of  the  Abencerrages  he  chose 
as  vizier  Abdelbar,  one  of  the  worthiest  of  that  magnani- 
mous line.  Through  his  advice  he  restrained  his  vindic- 
tive feelings  and  adopted  a  conciliatory  policy.  He  par- 
doned most  of  his  enemies.  Yusef,  the  defunct  usurper, 
had  left  three  children.  His  estates  were  apportioned 
among  them.  Aben  Celim,  the  eldest  son,  was  confirmed 
in  the  title  of  Prince  of  Almeria  and  Lord  of  Marchena 
in   the   Alpuxarras.      Ahmed,  the   youngest,   was   made 


168  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Senor  of  Lucliar;  and  Equivila,  the  daughter,  received 
rich  patrimonial  lands  in  the  fertile  Yega,  and  various 
houses  and  shops  in  the  Zacatin  of  Granada.  The  vizier 
Abdelbar  counselled  the  king,  moreover,  to  secure  the 
adherence  of  the  family  by  matrimonial  connections.  An 
aunt  of  Muhamed  was  accordingly  given  in  marriage  to 
Aben  Celim,  while  the  prince  Nasar,  younger  brother  of 
the  deceased  usurper,  received  the  hand  of  the  beautiful 
Lindaraxa,  daughter  of  Muhamed's  faithful  adherent,  the 
alcayde  of  Malaga.  This  was  the  Lindaraxa  whose  name 
still  designates  one  of  the  gardens  of  the  Alhambra. 

Don  Pedro  de  Yenegas  alone,  the  husband  of  the  prin- 
cess Cetimerien,  received  no  favor.  He  was  considered 
as  having  produced  the  late  troubles  by  his  intrigues. 
The  Abencerrages  charged  him  with  the  reverses  of  their 
family  and  the  deaths  of  so  many  of  their  bravest  cava- 
liers. The  king  never  spoke  of  him  but  by  the  opprobri- 
ous appellation  of  the  Tornadizo,  or  Renegade.  Finding 
himself  in  danger  of  arrest  and  punishment,  he  took 
leave  of  his  wife,  the  princess,  his  two  sons,  Abul  Cacim 
and  Eeduan,  and  his  daughter,  Cetimerien,  and  fled  to 
Jaen.  There,  like  his  brother-in-law,  the  usurper,  he  ex- 
piated his  intrigues  and  irregular  ambition  by  profound 
humiliation  and  melancholy,  and  died  in  1434  a  penitent, 
because  a  disappointed  man."^ 

Muhamed  el  Hayzari  was  doomed  to  further  reverses. 

*  Salazar  j  Castro,  Hist.  Genealog.  de  la  Oasa  de  Lara,  lib.  v.,  c.  12, 
cited  by  Alcantara  in  his  Hist.  Oranad. 


THE  ABENGEBBAGEa.  169 

He  had  two  nephews,  Aben  Osmyn,  surnamed  el  Anaf,  or 
the  Lame,  and  Aben  Ismael.  The  former,  who  was  of  an 
ambitious  spirit,  resided  in  Almeria  ;  the  latter  in  Gra- 
nada, where  he  had  many  friends.  He  was  on  the  point 
of  espousing  a  beautiful  girl,  when  his  royal  uncle  inter- 
fered and  gave  her  to  one  of  his  favorites.  Enraged  at 
this  despotic  act,  the  prince  Aben  Ismael  took  horse 
and  weapons  and  sallied  from  Granada  for  the  frontier, 
followed  by  numerous  cavaliers.  The  affair  gave  general 
disgust,  especially  to  the  Abencerrages  who  were  at- 
tached to  the  prince.  No  sooner  did  tidings  reach  Aben 
Osmyn  of  the  public  discontent  than  his  ambition  was 
aroused.  Throwing  himself  suddenly  into  Granada,  he 
raised  a  popular  tumult,  surprised  his  uncle  in  the  Al- 
hambra,  compelled  him  to  abdicate,  and  proclaimed  him- 
self king.  This  occurred  in  September,  1445.  The  Aben- 
cerrages now  gave  up  the  fortunes  of  the  left-lianded  king 
as  hopeless,  and  himself  as  incompetent  to  rule.  Led  by 
their  kinsman,  the  vizier  Abdelbar,  and  accompanied  by 
many  other  cavaliers,  they  abandoned  the  court  and  took 
post  in  Montefrio.  Thence  Abdelbar  wrote  to  Prince 
Aben  Ismael,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  Castile,  inviting 
him  to  the  camp,  offering  to  support  his  pretensions  to 
the  throne,  and  advising  him  to  leave  Castile  secretly, 
lest  his  departure  should  be  opposed  by  King  Juan  II. 
The  prince,  however,  confiding  in  the  generosity  of  the 
Castilian  monarch,  told  frankly  the  whole  matter.  He 
was  not  mistaken.     King  Juan  not  merely  gave  him  per- 


l70  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

mission  to  depart,  but  promised  him  aid,  and  gave  him 
letters  to  that  effect  to  his  commanders  on  the  frontiers. 
Aben  Ismael  departed  with  a  brilliant  escort,  arrived  in 
safety  at  Montefrio,  and  was  proclaimed  king  of  Granada 
by  Abdelbar  and  his  partisans,  the  most  important  of 
whom  were  the  Abencerrages.  A  long  course  of  civil 
wars  ensued  between  the  two  cousins,  rivals  for  the 
throne.  Aben  Osmyn  was  aided  by  the  kings  of  Navarre 
and  Aragon,  while  Juan  II.,  at  war  with  his  rebellious 
subjects,  could  give  little  assistance  to  Aben  Ismael. 
,  Thus  for  several  years  the  country  was  torn  by  inter- 
nal strife  and  desolated  by  foreign  inroads,  so  that  scarce 
a  field  but  was  stained  with  blood.  Aben  Osmyn  was 
brave,  and  often  signalized  himself  in  arms ;  but  he  was 
cruel  and  despotic,  and  ruled  with  an  iron  hand.  He 
offended  the  nobles  by  his  caprices,  and  the  populace  by 
his  tyranny,  while  his  rival  cousin  conciliated  all  hearts 
by  his  benignity.  Hence  there  were  continual  desertions 
from  Granada  to  the  fortified  camp  at  Montefrio,  and  the 
party  of  Aben  Ismael  was  constantly  gaining  strength. 
At  length  the  king  of  Castile,  having  made  peace  with 
the  kings  of  Aragon  and  Navarre,  was  enabled  to  send  a 
choice  body  of  troops  to  the  assistance  of  Aben  Ismael. 
The  latter  now  left  his  trenches  in  Montefrio,  and  took 
the  field.  The  combined  forces  marched  upon  Granada. 
Aben  Osmyn  sallied  forth  to  the  encounter.  A  bloody 
battle  ensued,  in  which  both  of  the  rival  cousins  fought 
with  heroic  valor.     Aben  Osmyn  was  defeated  and  driven 


ABEN  laMAEL.  171 

back  to  liis  gates.  He  summoned  the  inhabitants  to 
arms,  but  few  answered  to  his  call ;  his  cruelty  had  alien- 
ated all  hearts.  Seeing  his  fortunes  at  an  end,  he  de- 
termined to  close  his  career  by  a  signal  act  of  vengeance. 
Shutting  himself  up  in  the  Alhambra,  he  summoned 
thither  a  number  of  the  principal  cavaliers  whom  he 
suspected  of  disloyalty.  As  they  entered,  they  were  one 
by  one  put. to  death.  This  is  supposed  by  some  to  be 
the  massacre  which  gave  its  fatal  name  to  the  hall  of  the 
Abencerrages.  Having  perpetrated  this  atrocious  act  of 
vengeance,  and  hearing  by  the  shouts  of  the  populace 
that  Aben  Ismael  was  already  proclaimed  king  in  the 
city,  he  escaped  with  his  satellites  by  the  Cerro  del  Sol 
and  the  valley  of  the  Darro  to  the  Alpuxarra  Mountains  ; 
where  he  and  his  followers  led  a  kind  of  robber  life,  lay- 
ing villages  and  roads  under  contribution. 

Aben  Ismael  II.,  who  thus  attained  the  throne  in  1454, 
secured  the  friendship  of  King  Juan  II.  by  acts  of  hom- 
age and  magnificent  presents.  He  gave  liberal  rewards 
to  those  who  had  been  faithful  to  him,  and  consoled  the 
families  of  those  who  had  fallen  in  his  cause.  During 
his  reign,  the  Abencerrages  were  again  among  the  most 
favored  of  the  brilliant  chivalry  that  graced  his  court. 
Aben  Ismael,  however,  was  not  of  a  warlike  spirit ;  his 
reign  was  distinguished  rather  by  works  of  public  utility, 
the  ruins  of  some  of  which  are  still  to  be  seen  on  the 
Cerro  del  Sol. 

In  the  same  year  of  1454  Juan  II.  died,  and  was  sue- 


X72  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

ceeded  bj  Henry  lY.  of  Castile,  surnamed  the  Impotent. 
Aben  Ismael  neglected  to  renew  the  league  of  amity  with 
him  which  had  existed  with  his  predecessor,  as  he  found 
it  to  be  unpopular  with  the  people  of  Granada.  King 
Henry  resented  the  omissions,  and,  under  pretext  of 
arrears  of  tribute,  made  repeated  forays  into  the  king- 
dom of  Granada.  He  gave  countenance  also  to  Aben 
Osmyn  and  his  robber  hordes,  and  took  some  of  them 
into  pay  ;  but  his  proud  cavaliers  refused  to  associate 
with  infidel  outlaws,  and  determined  to  seize  Aben 
Osmyn ;  who,  however,  made  his  escape,  first  to  Seville, 
and  thence  to  Castile. 

In  the  year  1456,  on  the  occasion  of  a  great  foray  into 
the  Yega  by  the  Christians,  Aben  Ismael,  to  secure  a 
peace,  agreed  to  pay  the  king  of  Castile  a  certain  tribute 
annually,  and  at  the  same  time  to  liberate  six  hundred 
Christian  captives ;  or,  should  the  number  of  captives 
fall  short,  to  make  it  up  in  Moorish  hostages.  Aben 
Ismael  fulfilled  the  rigorous  terms  of  the  treaty,  and 
reigned  for  a  number  of  years  with  more  tranquillity 
than  usually  fell  to  the  lot  of  the  monarchs  of  that  bellig- 
erent kingdom.  Granada  enjoyed  a  great  state  of  pros- 
perity during  his  reign,  and  was  the  seat  of  festivity  and 
splendor.  His  sultana  was  a  daughter  of  Cid  Hiaya  Abra- 
ham Alnayar,  prince  of  Almeria  ;  and  he  had  by  her  two 
sons,  Abul  Hassan,  and  Abi  Abdallah,  surnamed  El  Zagal, 
the  father  and  uncle  of  Boabdil.  We  approach  now  the 
eventful  period  signalized  by  the  conquest  of  Granada. 


DESCENDANTS  OF  DON  PEDRO   VENEGAS        I73 

Muley  Abul  Hassan  succeeded  to  the  throne  on  the 
death  of  his  father  in  1465.  One  of  his  first  acts  was 
to  refuse  payment  of  the  degrading  tribute  exacted 
by  the  Castilian  monarch.  His  refusal  was  one  of 
the  causes  of  the  subsequent  disastrous  war.  I  confine 
myself,  however,  to  facts  connected  with  the  fortunes 
of  the  Abencerrages  and  the  charges  advanced  against 
BoabdiL 

The  reader  will  recollect  that  Don  Pedro  Yenegas, 
surname d  El  Tornadizo,  when  he  fled  from  Granada  in 
1433,  left  behind  him  two  sons,  Abul  Cacim  and  Eeduan, 
and  a  daughter,  Cetimerien.  They  always  enjoyed  a 
distinguished  rank  in  Granada,  from  their  royal  descent 
by  the  mother's  side,  and  from  being  connected,  through 
the  princes  of  Almeria,  with  the  last  and  the  present 
king.  The  sons  had  distinguished  themselves  by  their 
talents  and  bravery,  and  the  daughter  Cetimerien  was 
married  to  Cid  Hiaya,  grandson  of  King  Yusef  and 
brother-in-law  of  El  Zagal.  Thus  powerfully  connected, 
it  is  not  surprising  to  find  Abul  Cacim  Venegas  advanced 
to  the  post  of  vizier  of  Muley  Abul  Hassan,  and  Keduan 
Venegas  one  of  his  most  favored  generals.  Their  rise 
was  regarded  with  an  evil  eye  by  the  Abencerrages,  who 
remembered  the  disasters  brought  upon  their  family,  and 
the  deaths  of  so  many  of  their  line,  in  the  war  fomented 
by  the  intrigues  of  Don  Pedro,  in  the  days  of  Yusef  Aben 
Alhamar.  A  feud  had  existed  ever  since  between  the 
Abencerrages  and  the  house  of  Venegas.     It  was  soon  to 


174  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

be  aggravated  by  a  formidable  schism  which  took  place 
in  the  rojal  harem. 

Muley  Abnl  Hassan,  in  his  youthful  days,  had  married 
his  cousin,  the  Princess  Ayxa  la  Horra,  daughter  of  his 
uncle,  the  ill-starred  sultan,  Muhamed  the  Left-handed;* 
by  her  he  had  two  sons,  the  eldest  of  whom  was  Boabdil, 
heir  presumptive  to  the  throne.  Unfortunately  at  an 
advanced  age  he  took  another  wife,  Isabella  de  Solis,  a 
young  and  beautiful  Christian  captive,  better  known  by 
her  Moorish  appellation  of  Zoraya ;  by  her  he  had  also 
two  sons.  Two  factions  were  produced  in  the  palace  by 
the  rivalry  of  the  sultanas,  who  were  each  anxious  to  se- 
cure for  their  children  the  succession  to  the  throne.  Zo- 
raya was  supported  by  the  vizier  Abul  Cacim  Yenegas, 
his  brother  Eeduan  Venegas,  and  their  numerous  connec- 
tions, partly  through  sympathy  with  her  as  being,  like 
themselves,  of  Christian  lineage,  and  partly  because  they 
saw  she  was  the  favorite  of  the  doting  monarch. 

The  Abencerrages,  on  the  contrary,  rallied  round  the 
sultana  Ayxa ;  partly  through  hereditary  opposition  to 
the  family  of  Yenegas,  but  chiefly,  no  doubt,  through  a 
strong  feeling  of  loyalty  to  her  as  daughter  of  Muhamed 
Alhayzari,  the  ancient  benefactor  of  their  line. 

The  dissensions  of  the  palace  went  on  increasing.  In- 
trigues  of  all  kinds  took  place,  as  is  usual  in  royal 
palaces.     Suspicions  were  artfully  instilled  in  the  mind 

*  Al  Makkari,  B.  YIII.  c.  7. 


FATE  OF  THE  ABENGEBBAGE8.  I75 

of  Miiley  Abul  Hassan  that  Ayxa  was  engaged  in  a  plot 
to  depose  him  and  put  her  son  Boabdil  on  the  throne. 
In  his  first  transports  of  rage  he  confined  them  both  in 
the  tower  of  Comares,  threatening  the  life  of  BoabdiL 
At  dead  of  night  the  anxious  mother  lowered  her  son 
from  a  window  of  the  tower  by  the  scarfs  of  herself  and 
her  female  attendants ;  and  some  of  her  adherents,  who 
were  in  waiting  with  swift  horses,  bore  him  away  to  the 
x4Llpuxarras.  It  is  this  imprisonment  of  the  sultana  Ayxa 
which  possibly  gave  rise  to  the  fable  of  the  queen  of 
Boabdil  being  confined  by  him  in  a  tower  to  be  tried  for 
her  life.  No  other  shadow  of  a  ground  exists  for  it,  and 
here  we  find  the  tyrant  jailer  was  his  father,  and  the  cap- 
tive sultana  his  mother. 

The  massacre  of  the  Abencerrages  in  the  halls  of  the 
Alhambra  is  placed  by  some  about  this  time,  and  at- 
tributed also  to  Muley  Abul  Hassan,  on  suspicion  of 
their  being  concerned  in  the  conspiracy.  The  sacrifice 
of  a  number  of  the  cavaliers  of  that  line  is  said  to  have 
been  suggested  by  the  vizier  Abul  Cacim  Yenegas,  as  a 
means  of  striking  terror  into  the  rest.*  If  such  were 
really  the  case,  the  barbarous  measure  proved  abortive. 
The  Abencerrages  continued  intrepid,  as  they  were  loyal, 
in  their  adherence  to  the  cause  of  Ayxa  and  her  son 
Boabdil,  throughout   the  war  which   ensued,  while   the 

*  Alcantara,  Eist.  Granad.,  c.  17.  See  also  Al  Makkari,  Hist.  Moha- 
ma.  Dynasties,  B.  VIII.  c.  7,  with  the  Commentaries  of  Don  Pascual  de 
Guyangos. 


176  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Venegas  were  ever  foremost  in  the  ranks  of  Muley  Abul 
Hassan  and  El  Zagal.  The  ultimate  fortunes  of  these 
rival  families  is  worthy  of  note.  The  Yenegas,  in  the  last 
struggle  of  Granada,  were  among  those  who  submitted  to 
the  conquerors,  renounced  the  Moslem  creed,  returned 
to  the  faith  from  which  their  ancestor  had  apostatized, 
were  rewarded  with  offices  and  estates,  intermarried 
with  Spanish  families,  and  have  left  posterity  among  the 
nobles  of  the  land.  The  Abencerrages  remained  true  to 
their  faith,  true  to  their  king,  true  to  their  desperate 
cause,  and  went  down  with  the  foundering  wreck  of  Mos- 
lem domination,  leaving  nothing  behind  them  but  a  gal- 
lant and  romantic  name  in  history. 

In  this  historical  outline,  I  trust  I  have  shown  enough 
to  put  the  fable  concerning  Boabdil  and  the  Abencer- 
rages in  a  true  light.  The  story  of  the  accusation  of 
his  queen,  and  his  cruelty  to  his  sister,  are  equally  void 
of  foundation.  In  his  domestic  relations  he  appears  to 
have  been  kind  and  affectionate.  "  History  gives  him  but 
one  wife,  Morayma,  the  daughter  of  the  veteran  alcayde 
of  Loxa,  old  Aliatar,  famous  in  song  and  story  for  his  ex- 
ploits in  border  warfare  ;  and  who  fell  in  that  disastrous 
foray  into  the  Christian  lands  in  which  Boabdil  was 
taken  prisoner.  Morayma  was  true  to  Boabdil  through- 
out all  his  vicissitudes.  When  he  was  dethroned  by  the 
Castilian  monarchs,  she  retired  with  him  to  the  petty 
domain  allotted  him  in  the  valleys  of  the  Alpuxarras.  It 
was  only  when  (dispossessed  of  this  by  the  jealous  pre- 


BOABDIL  AND  HIS  SULTANA.  I77 

cautions  and  subtle  chicanery  of  Ferdinand,  and  elbowed, 
as  it  were,  out  of  bis  native  land)  be  was  preparing  to 
embark  for  Africa,  that  her  health  and  spirits,  exhausted 
by  anxiety  and  long  suffering,  gave  way,  and  she  fell  into 
a  lingering  illness  aggravated  by  corroding  melancholy, 
Boabdil  was  constant  and  affectionate  to  her  to  the  last ; 
the  sailing  of  the  ships  was  delayed  for  several  weeks,  to 
the  great  annoyance  of  the  suspicious  Ferdinand.  At 
length  Morayma  sank  into  the  grave,  evidently  the  vic- 
tim of  a  broken  heart,  and  the  event  was  reported  to 
Ferdinand  by  his  agent  as  one  propitious  to  his  pur- 
poses, removing  the  only  obstacle  to  the  embarkation  of 
Boabdil.* 

*  For  authorities  for  these  latter  facts,  see  tne  Appendix  to  the  author's 
revised  edition  of  the  Conquest  of  Granada, 


MEMENTOS    OF    BOABDIL. 


HILE  my  mind  was  still  warm  with  the  subject 
of  the  unfortunate  Boabdil,  I  set  forth  to  trace 
the  mementos  of  him  still  existing  in  this 
scene  of  his  sovereignty  and  misfortunes.  In  the  tower 
of  Comares,  immediately  under  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors, 
are  two  vaulted  rooms,  separated  by  a  narrow  passage  ; 
these  are  said  to  have  been  the  prisons  of  himself  and 
his  mother,  the  virtuous  Ayxa  la  Horra;  indeed,  no  other 
part  of  the  tower  would  have  served  for  the  purpose. 
The  external  walls  of  these  chambers  are  of  prodigious 
thickness,  pierced  with  small  windows  secured  by  iron 
bars.  A  narrow  stone  gallery,  with  a  low  parapet,  ex- 
tends along  three  sides  of  the  tower  just  below  the  win- 
dows,  but  at  a  considerable  height  from  the  ground. 
From  this  gallery,  it  is  presumed,  the  queen  lowered 
her  son  with  the  scarfs  of  herself  and  her  female  attend- 
ants during  the  darkness  of  the  night  to  the  hill-side, 
where  some  of  his  faithful  adherents  waited  with  fleet 
steeds  to  bear  him  to  the  mountains. 

Between  three  and  four  hundred  years  have  elapsed, 

yet  this  scene  of  the  drama  remains  almost  unchanged. 

178 


MEMENTOS  OF  BOABDIL.  I79 

As  I  paced  the  gallery,  mj  imagination  pictured  the 
anxious  queen  leaning  over  the  parapet,  listening,  with 
the  throbbings  of  a  mother's  heart,  to  the  last  echoes  of 
the  horses'  hoofs  as  her  son  scoured  along  the  narrow 
valley  of  the  Darro. 

I  next  sought  the  gate  by  which  Boabdil  made  his  last 
exit  from  the  Alhambra,  when  about  to  surrender  his 
capital  and  kingdom.  With  the  melancholy  caprice  of  a 
broken  spirit,  or  perhaps  with  some  superstitious  feel- 
ing, he  requested  of  the  Catholic  monarchs  that  no  one 
afterwards  might  be  permitted  to  pass  through  it.  His 
prayer,  according  to  ancient  chronicles,  was  complied 
with,  through  the  sympathy  of  Isabella,  and  the  gate  was 
walled  up.* 

I  inquired  for  some  time  in  vain  for  such  a  portal ;  at 
length  my  humble  attendant,  Mateo  Ximenes,  said  it 
must  be  one  closed  up  with  stones,  which,  according  to 
what  he  had  heard  from  his  father  and  grandfather,  was 
the  gateway  by  which  King  Chico  had  left  the  fortress. 
There  was  a  mystery  about  it,  and  it  had  never  been 
opened  within  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant. 

He  conducted  me  to  the  spot.     The  gateway  is  in  the 

*  Ay  una  puerta  en  la  Alhambra  por  la  qual  salio  Chico  Rey  de  los 
Moros,  quando  si  rindio  prisionero  al  Rey  de  Espana  D.  Fernando,  y  le 
entrego  la  ciudad  con  el  castillo.  Pidio  esta  principe  eomo  por  merced, 
y  en  memoria  de  tan  importante  conquista,  al  que  quedasse  siempre  cer- 
rada  esta  puerta.  Consintio  en  alio  el  Rey  Fernando,  y  des  de  aquel 
tiempo  no  solamente  no  se  abrio  la  puerta  sino  tambien  se  construyo  junto 
a  ella  fuerte  bastion. — Moreri's  Historical  Dictionary ^  Spanish  Edition, 
Vol.  I.  p.  372. 


180  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

centre  of  what  was  once  an  immense  pile,  called  the 
Tower  of  the  Seven  Floors  (Ja  Torre  de  los  siete  suelos). 
It  is  famous  in  the  neighborhood  as  the  scene  of  strange 
apparitions  and  Moorish  enchantments.  According  to 
Swinburne  the  traveller,  it  was  originally  the  great  gate 
of  entrance.  The  antiquaries  of  Granada  pronounce  it 
the  entrance  to  that  quarter  of  the  royal  residence  where 
the  king's  body-guards  were  stationed.  It  therefore 
might  well  form  an  immediate  entrance  and  exit  to  the 
palace  ;  while  the  grand  Gate  of  Justice  served  as  the 
entrance  of  state  to  the  fortress.  When  Boabdil  sallied 
by  this  gate  to  descend  to  the  Vega,  where  he  was  to 
surrender  the  keys  of  the  city  to  the  Spanish  sovereigns, 
he  left  his  vizier  Aben  Comixa  to  receive,  at  the  Gate 
of  Justice,  the  detachment  from  the  Christian  army  and 
the  officers  to  whom  the  fortress  was  to  be  given  up.* 

The  once  redoubtable  Tower  of  the  Seven  Floors  is 
now  a  mere  wreck,  having  been  blown  up  with  gunpow- 
der by  the  French,  when  they  abandoned  the  fortress. 
Great  masses  of  the  wall  lie  scattered  about,  buried  in 
luxuriant  herbage,  or  overshadowed  by  vines  and  fig- 
trees.  The  arch  of  the  gateway,  though  rent  by  the 
shock,  still  remains ;  but  the  last  wish  of  poor  Boabdil 
has  again,  though  unintentionally,  been  fulfilled,  for  the 


*  The  minor  details  of  the  surrender  of  G-ranada  have  been  stated  in 
different  ways  even  by  eye-witnesses.  The  author,  in  his  revised  edition 
of  the  Conquest,  has  endeavored  to  adjust  them  according  to  the  latest 
and  apparently  best  authorities. 


MEMENTOS  OF  BOABDIL.  181 

pori>al  has  been  closed  up  by  loose  stones  gathered  from 
the  ruins,  and  remains  impassable. 

Mounting  my  horse,  I  followed  up  the  route  of  the 
Moslem  monarch  from  this  place  of  his  exit.  Crossing 
the  hill  of  Los  Martyros,  and  keeping  along  the  garden- 
wall  of  a  convent  bearing  the  same  name,  I  descended  a 
rugged  ravine  beset  by  thickets  of  aloes  and  Indian  figs, 
and  lined  with  caves  and  hovels  swarming  with  gipsies. 
The  descent  was  so  steep  and  broken  that  I  was  fain  to 
alight  and  lead  my  horse.  By  this  via  dolorosa  poor 
Boabdil  took  his  sad  departure  to  avoid  passing  through 
the  city ;  partly,  perhaps,  through  unwillingness  that  its 
inhabitants  should  behold  his  humiliation ;  but  chiefly, 
in  all  probability,  lest  it  might  cause  some  popular  agita- 
tion. For  the  last  reason,  undoubtedly,  the  detachment 
sent  to  take  possession  of  the  fortress  ascended  by  the 
same  route. 

Emerging  from  this  rough  ravine,  so  full  of  melancholy 
associations,  and  passing  by  the  puerta  de  Jos  molinos  (the 
gate  of  the  mills),  I  issued  forth  upon  the  public  prome- 
nade called  the  Prado  ;  and  pursuing  the  course  of  the 
Xenil,  arrived  at  a  small  chapel,  once  a  mosque,  now  the 
Hermitage  of  San  Sebastian.  Here,  according  to  tradi- 
tion, Boabdil  surrendered  the  keys  of  Granada  to  King 
Ferdinand.  I  rode  slowly  thence  across  the  Vega  to  a 
village  where  the  family  and  household  of  the  unhappy 
king  awaited  him,  for  he  had  sent  them  forward  on  the 
preceding  night  from  the  Alhambra,  that  his  mother  and 


182  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

wife  miglit  not  participate  in  his  personal  humiliation,  oi 
be  exposed  to  the  gaze  of  the  conquerors.  Following  on 
in  the  route  of  the  melancholy  band  of  royal  exiles,  I 
arrived  at  the  foot  of  a  chain  of  barren  and  dreary 
heights,  forming  the  skirt  of  the  Alpuxarra  Mountains. 
From  the  summit  of  one  of  these  the  unfortunate  Boab- 
dil  took  his  last  look  at  Granada ;  it  bears  a  name  ex- 
pressive of  his  sorrows.  La  Cuesta  de  las  Lagrimas  (the 
hill  of  tears).  Beyond  it,  a  sandy  road  winds  across  a 
rugged  cheerless  waste,  doubly  dismal  to  the  unhappy 
monarch,  as  it  led  to  exile. 

I  spurred  my  horse  to  the  summit  of  a  rock,  where 
Boabdil  uttered  his  last  sorrowful  exclamation,  as  he 
turned  his  eyes  from  taking  their  farewell  gaze :  it  is 
still  denominated  el  ultimo  suspiro  del  Moro  (the  last  sigh 
of  the  Moor).  Who  can  wonder  at  his  anguish  at  be- 
ing expelled  from  such  a  kingdom  and  such  an  abode  ? 
With  the  Alhambra  he  seemed  to  be  yielding  up  all  the 
honors  of  his  line,  and  all  the  glories  and  delights  of  life. 

It  was  here,  too,  that  his  affliction  was  embittered  by 
the  reproach  of  his  mother,  Ayxa,  who  had  so  often 
assisted  him  in  times  of  peril,  and  had  vainly  sought  to 
instil  into  him  her  own  resolute  spirit.  "  You  do  well," 
said  she,  "  to  weep  as  a  woman  over  what  you  could  not 
defend  as  a  man ; "  a  speech  savoring  more  of  the  pride 
of  the  princess  than  the  tenderness  of  the  mother. 

When  this  anecdote  was  related  to  Charles  V.,  by 
Bishop  Guevara,  the  emperor  joined  in  the  expression  of 


MEMENTOS  OF  BOABDIL.  183 

scorn  at  the  weakness  of  the  wavering  Boabdil.  "  Had  I 
been  he,  or  he  been  I,"  said  the  haughty  potentate,  "  I 
would  rather  have  made  this  Alhambra  my  sepulchre 
than  have  lived  without  a  kingdom  in  the  Alpuxarra." 
How  easy  it  is  for  those  in  power  and  prosperity  to 
preach  heroism  to  the  vanquished  !  how  little  can  they 
understand  that  life  itself  may  rise  in  value  with  the  un- 
fortunate, when  naught  but  life  remains ! 

Slowly  descending  the  "  Hill  of  Tears,"  I  let  my  horse 
take  his  own  loitering  gait  back  to  Granada,  while  I 
turned  the  story  of  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  over  in  my 
mind.  In  summoning  up  the  particulars,  I  found  the 
balance  inclining  in  his  favor.  Throughout  the  whole  of 
his  brief,  turbulent,  and  disastrous  reign,  he  gives  evi- 
dence of  a  mild  and  amiable  character.  He,  in  the  first 
instance,  won  the  hearts  of  his  people  by  his  affable  and 
gracious  manners  ;  he  was  always  placable,  and  never 
inflicted  any  severity  of  punishment  upon  those  who 
occasionally  rebelled  against  him.  He  was  personally 
brave  ;  but  wanted  moral  courage  ;  and,  in  times  of  diffi- 
culty and  perplexity,  was  wavering  and  irresolute.  This 
feebleness  of  spirit  hastened  his  downfall,  while  it  de- 
prived him  of  that  heroic  grace  which  would  have  given 
grandeur  and  dignity  to  his  fate,  and  rendered  him 
worthy  of  closing  the  splendid  drama  of  the  Moslem 
domination  in  Spain. 


PUBLIC  FETES  OF  GRANADA. 

Y  devoted  squire  and.  whilom  ragged  cicerone 
Mateo  Ximenes  had  a  poor-devil  passion  for 
fetes  and  holidays,  and  was  never  so  eloquent 
as  when  detailing  the  civil  and  religious  festivals  at 
Granada.  During  the  preparations  for  the  annual 
Catholic  fete  of  Corpus  Christi,  he  was  in  a  state  of 
incessant  transition  between  the  Alhambra  and  the  sub- 
jacent city,  bringing  me  daily  accounts  of  the  magnificent 
arrangements  that  were  in  progress,  and  endeavoring, 
but  in  vain,  to  lure  me  down  from  my  cool  and  airy 
retreat  to  witness  them.  At  length,  on  the  eve  of  the 
eventful  day,  I  yielded  to  his  solicitations  and  descended 
from  the  regal  halls  of  the  Alhambra  under  his  escort, 
as  did  of  yore  the  adventure-seeking  Haroun  Alraschid 
under  that  of  his  Grand  Yizier  Giaffar.  Though  it  was 
yet  scarce  sunset,  the  city  gates  were  already  thronged 
with  the  picturesque  villagers  of  the  mountains,  and  the 
brown  peasantry  of  the  Vega.  Granada  has  ever  been 
the  rallying-place  of  a  great  mountainous  region,  studded 
with  towns  and  villages.  Hither,  during  the  Moorish 
domination,  the  chivalry  of  this  region  repaired,  to  join  in 

184 


THE   VIVABRAMBLA,  185 

the  splendid  and  semi-warlike  fetes  of  tlie  Yivarrambla  ; 
and  hither  the  elite  of  its  population  still  resort  to  join 
in  the  pompous  ceremonials  of  the  Church.  Indeed, 
many  of  the  mountaineers  from  the  Alpuxarras  and  the 
Sierra  de  Ronda,  who  now  bow  to  the  cross  as  zealous 
Catholics,  bear  the  stamp  of  their  Moorish  origin,  and 
are  indubitable  descendants  of  the  fickle  subjects  of 
Boabdil. 

Under  the  guidance  of  Mateo,  I  made  my  way  through 
streets  already  teeming  with  a  holiday  population,  to  the 
square  of  the  Vivarrambla,  that  great  place  for  tilts  and 
tourneys  so  often  sung  in  the  Moorish  ballads  of  love 
and  chivalry.  A  gallery  or  arcade  of  wood  had  been 
erected  along  the  sides  of  the  square,  for  the  grand  reli- 
gious procession  of  the  following  day.  This  was  bril- 
liantly illuminated  for  the  evening  as  a  promenade ;  and 
bands  of  music  were  stationed  on  balconies  on  each  of 
Ahe  four  fa9ades  of  the  square.  All  the  fashion  and 
beauty  of  Granada,  all  of  its  population  of  either  sex  that 
had  good  looks  or  fine  clothes  to  display,  thronged  this 
arcade,  promenading  round  and  round  the  Yivarrambla. 
Here,  too,  were  the  Majos  and  Majas^  the  rural  beaux 
and  belles,  with  fine  forms,  flashing  eyes,  and  gay  Anda- 
lusian  costumes ;  some  of  them  from  Ronda  itself,  that 
strong -hold  of  the  mountains,  famous  for  contraban- 
distas,  bull-fighters,  and  beautiful  women. 

While  this  gay  but  motley  throng  kept  up  a  constant 
circulation  in  the  gallery,  the  centre  of  the  square  was 


186  TEE  ALHAMBBA. 

occupied  by  the  peasantry  from  tlie  surrounding  coun- 
try ;  who  made  no  pretensions  to  display,  but  came  for 
simple,  hearty  enjoyment.  The  whole  square  was  cov- 
ered with  them  ;  forming  separate  groups  of  families  and 
neighborhoods,  like  gipsy  encampments,  some  were  lis- 
tening to  the  traditional  ballad  drawled  out  to  the  tink- 
ling of  the  guitar ;  some  were  engaged  in  gay  conversa- 
tion ;  some  were  dancing  to  the  click  of  the  castanet.  As 
I  threaded  my  way  through  this  teeming  region  with 
Mateo  at  my  heels,  I  passed  occasionally  some  rustic 
party,  seated  on  the  ground,  making  a  merry  though 
frugal  repast.  If  they  caught  my  eye  as  I  loitered  by, 
they  almost  invariably  invited  me  to  partake  of  their 
simple  fare.  This  hospitable  usage,  inherited  from  their 
Moslem  invaders,  and  originating  in  the  tent  of  the  Arab, 
is  universal  throughout  the  land,  and  observed  by  the 
poorest  Spaniard. 

As  the  night  advanced,  the  gayety  gradually  died  away 
in  the  arcades ;  the  bands  of  music  ceased  to  play,  and 
the  brilliant  crowd  dispersed  to  their  homes.  The  cen- 
tre of  the  square  still  remained  well  peopled,  and  Mateo 
assured  me  that  the  greater  part  of  the  peasantry,  men, 
women,  and  children,  would  pass  the  night  there,  sleep- 
ing on  the  bare  earth  beneath  the  open  canopy  of 
heaven.  Indeed,  a  summer  night  requires  no  shelter  in 
this  favored  climate  ;  and  a  bed  is  a  superfluity  which 
many  of  the  hardy  peasantry  of  Spain  never  enjoy,  and 
which   some   of  them   affect   to   despise.     The   common 


THE  PROCESSION.  187 

Spaniard  wraps  himself  in  his  brown  cloak,  stretches 
himself  on  his  manta  or  mnle-cloth,  and  sleeps  soundly, 
luxuriously  accommodated  if  he  can  have  a  saddle  for 
a  pillow.  In  a  little  while  the  words  of  Mateo  were 
made  good  ;  the  peasant  multitude  nestled  down  on  the 
ground  to  their  night's  repose,  and  by  midnight  the 
scene  on  the  Vivarrambla  resembled  the  bivouac  of  an 
army. 

The  next  morning,  accompanied  by  Mateo,  I  revisited 
the  square  at  sunrise.  It  was  still  strewed  with  groups 
of  sleepers  :  some  were  reposing  from  the  dance  and 
revel  of  the  evening ;  others,  who  had  left  their  villages 
after  work  on  the  preceding  day,  having  trudged  on  foot 
the  greater  part  of  the  night,  were  taking  a  sound  sleep 
to  freshen  themselves  for  the  festivities  of  the  day. 
Numbers  from  the  mountains,  and  the  remote  villages 
of  the  plain,  who  had  set  out  in  the  night,  continued  to 
arrive  with  their  wives  and  children.  All  were  in  high 
spirits ;  greeting  each  other  and  exchanging  jokes  and 
pleasantries.  The  gay  tumult  thickened  as  the  day 
advanced.  Now  came  pouring  in  at  the  city  gates,  and 
parading  through  the  streets,  the  deputations  from  the 
various  villages,  destined  to  swell  the  grand  procession. 
These  village  deputations  were  headed  by  their  priests, 
bearing  their  respective  crosses  and  banners,  and  images 
of  the  blessed  Virgin  and  of  patron  saints  ;  all  which 
were  matters  of  great  rivalship  and  jealousy  among  the 
peasantry.      It  was   like   the   chivalrous   gatherings    of 


188  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

ancient  days,  when  each  town  and  village  sent  its  chiefs, 
and  warriors,  and  standards,  to  defend  the  capital,  or 
grace  its  festivities. 

At  length  all  these  various  detachments  congregated 
into  one  grand  pageant,  which  slowly  paraded  round  the 
Vivarrambla,  and  through  the  principal  streets,  where 
every  window  and  balcony  was  hung  with  tapestry.  In 
this  procession  were  all  the  religious  orders,  the  civil 
and  military  authorities,  and  the  chief  people  of  the  par- 
ishes and  villages  :  every  church  and  convent  had  con- 
tributed its  banners,  its  images,  its  relics,  and  poured 
.forth  its  wealth  for  the  occasion.  In  the  centre  of  the 
procession  walked  the  archbishop,  under  a  damask  can- 
opy, and  surrounded  by  inferior  dignitaries  and  their 
dependants.  The  whole  moved  to  the  swell  and  cadence 
of  numerous  bands  of  music,  and,  passing  through  the 
midst  of  a  countless  yet  silent  multitude,  proceeded 
onward  to  the  cathedral. 

I  could  not  but  be  struck  with  the  changes  of  times 
and  customs,  as  I  saw  this  monkish  pageant  passing 
through  the  Yivarrambla,  the  ancient  seat  of  Moslem 
pomp  and  chivalry.  The  contrast  was  indeed  forced 
upon  the  mind  by  the  decorations  of  the  square.  The 
whole  front  of  the  wooden  gallery  erected  for  the  pro- 
cession, extending  several  hundred  feet,  was  faced  with 
canvas,  on  which  some  humble  though  patriotic  artist 
had  painted,  by  contract,  a  series  of  the  principal  scenes 
and  exploits  of  the  Conquest,  as  recorded  in  chronicle 


JEL  niA  BE  LA   TOMA.  189 

and  romance.  It  is  thus  the  romantic  legends  of  Gra-. 
nada  mingle  themselves  with  everything,  and  are  kept 
fresh  in  the  public  mind. 

As  we  wended  our  way  back  to  the  Alhambra,  Mateo 
was  in  high  glee  and  garrulous  vein.  "  Ah,  Senor,"  ex- 
claimed he,  "  there  is  no  place  in  all  the  world  like 
Granada  for  grand  ceremonies  {funcioiies  grandes) ;  a  man 
need  spend  nothing  on  pleasure  here,  it  is  all  furnished 
him  gratis."  Pero,  el  dia  de  la  Toma !  Ah,  Senor  !  el  dia 
de  la  Toma  !  "  But  the  day  of  the  Taking  f  ah,  Senor, 
the  day  of  the  Taking !  " — that  was  the  great  day  which 
crowned  Mateo's  notions  of  perfect  felicity.  The  Dia  de 
la  Toma,  I  found,  was  the  anniversary  of  the  capture  or 
taking  possession  of  Granada  by  the  army  of  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella. 

On  that  day,  according  to  Mateo,  the  whole  city  is 
abandoned  to  revelry.  The  great  alarm-bell  on  the 
watch-tower  of  the  Alhambra  (la  Torre  de  la  vela)  sends 
forth  its  clanging  peals  from  morn  till  night ;  the  sound 
pervades  the  whole  Yega,  and  echoes  along  the  moun- 
tains, summoning  the  peasantry  from  far  and  near  to  the 
festivities  of  the  metropolis.  "  Happy  the  damsel,"  says 
Mateo,  "  who  can  get  a  chance  to  ring  that  bell ;  it  is  a 
charm  to  insure  a  husband  within  the  year." 

Throughout  the  day  the  Alhambra  is  thrown  open  to 
the  public.  Its  halls  and  courts,  where  the  Moorish 
monarchs  once  held  sway,  resound  with  the  guitar  and 
Castanet,  and  gay  groups,  in  the  fanciful  dresses  of  Anda- 


190  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

lusia,  perform  their  traditional  dances  inherited  from 
the  Moors. 

A  grand  procession,  emblematic  of  the  taking  posses- 
sion of  the  city,  moves  through  the  principal  streets. 
The  banner  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  that  precious 
relic  of  the  Conquest,  is  brought  forth  from  its  deposi- 
tory, and  borne  in  triumph  by  the  Alferez  mayor,  or 
grand  standard-bearer.  The  portable  camp-altar,  car- 
ried about  with  the  sovereigns  in  all  their  campaigns, 
is  transported  into  the  chapel  royal  of  the  cathedral, 
and  placed  before  their  sepulchre,  where  their  effigies 
lie  in  monumental  marble.  High  mass  is  then  per- 
formed in  memory  of  the  Conquest ;  and  at  a  certain 
part  of  the  ceremony  the  Alferez  mayor  puts  on  his 
hat,  and  waves  the  standard  above  the  tomb  of  the  con- 
querors. 

A  more  whimsical  memorial  of  the  Conquest  is  exhib- 
ited in  the  evening  at  the  theatre.  A  popular  drama  is 
performed,  entitled  Ave  Maria,  turning  on  a  famous 
achievement  of  Hernando  del  Pulgar,  surnamed  "el  de 
las  Hazanas  "  (he  of  the  exploits),  a  madcap  warrior,  the 
favorite  hero  of  the  populace  of  Granada.  During  the 
time  of  the  siege,  the  young  Moorish  and  Spanish  cava- 
liers vied  with  each  other  in  extravagant  bravadoes.  On 
one  occasion  this  Hernando  del  Pulgar,  at  the  head  of  a 
handful  of  followers,  made  a  dash  into  Granada  in  the 
dead  of  the  night,  nailed  the  inscription  of  Ave  Maeia 
with  his  dagger  to  the  gate  of  the  principal  mosque,  a 


THE  AVE  MARIA.  193 

token  of  having  consecrated  it  to  the  Yirgin,  and  effected 
his  retreat  in  safety.* 

While  the  Moorish  cavaliers  admired  this  daring  ex- 
ploit, they  felt  bound  to  resent  it.  On  the  following 
day,  therefore,  Tarfe,  one  of  the  stoutest  among  them, 
paraded  in  front  of  the  Christian  arm.y,  dragging  the 
tablet  bearing  the  sacred  inscription  Ave  Maeia,  at  his 
horse's  tail.  The  cause  of  the  Virgin  was  eagerly  vindi- 
cated by  Garcilaso  de  la  Yega,  who  slew  the  Moor  in 
single  combat,  and  elevated  the  tablet  in  devotion  and 
triumph  at  the  end  of  his  lance. 

The  drama  founded  on  this  exploit  is  prodigiously 
popular  with  the  common  people.  Although  it  has  been 
acted  time  out  of  mind,  it  never  fails  to  draw  crowds,  who 
become  completely  lost  in  the  delusions  of  the  scene. 
When  their  favorite  Pulgar  strides  about  with  many  a 
mouthy  speech,  in  the  very  midst  of  the  Moorish  capital, 
he  is  cheered  with  enthusiastic  bravos ;  and  when  he 
nails  the  tablet  to  the  door  of  the  mosque,  the  theatre 
absolutely  shakes  with  the  thunders  of  applause.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  unlucky  actors  who  figure  in  the  part 
of  the  Moors,  have  to  bear  the  brunt  of  popular  indig- 
nation ;  which  at  times  equals  that  of  the  Hero  of  La- 
manche,  at  the  puppet-show  of  Gines  de  Passamonte  ;  for, 
when  the  infidel  Tarfe  plucks  down  the  tablet  to  tie  it  to 
his  horse's  tail,  some  of  the  audience  rise  in  fury,  and 

*  See  a  more  detailed  account  of  the  exploit  in  the  chronicle  of  ths 
Conquest  of  Granada. 


192  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

are  ready  to  jump  upon  the  stage  to  revenge  this  insult 
to  the  Virgin. 

By  the  way,  the  actual  lineal  descendant  of  Hernando 
del  Pulgar  was  the  Marquis  de  Salar.  As  the  legitimate 
representative  of  that  madcap  hero,  and  in  commemora- 
tion and  reward  of  this  hero's  exploit  above  mentioned, 
he  inherited  the  right  to  enter  the  cathedral  on  certain 
occasions,  on  horseback ;  to  sit  within  the  choir,  and  to 
put  on  his  hat  at  the  elevation  of  the  host,  though  these 
privileges  were  often  and  obstinately  contested  by  the 
clergy.  I  met  him  occasionally  in  society ;  he  was  young, 
of  agreeable  appearance  and  manners,  with  bright  black 
eyes,  in  which  appeared  to  lurk  some  of  the  fire  of  his 
ancestors.  Among  the  paintings  in  the  Yivarrambla,  on 
the  fete  of  Corpus  Christi,  were  some  depicting,  in  vivid 
style,  the  exploits  of  the  family  hero.  An  old  gray- 
headed  servant  of  the  Pulgars  shed  tears  on  beholding 
them,  and  hurried  home  to  inform  the  marquis.  The 
eager  zeal  and  enthusiasm  of  the  old  domestic  only  pro- 
voked a  light  laugh  from  his  young  master ;  whereupon, 
turning  to  the  brother  of  the  marquis,  with  that  freedom 
allowed  in  Spain  to  old  family  servants,  "  Come,  Senor," 
cried  he,  "  you  are  more  considerate  than  your  brother ; 
come  and  see  your  ancestor  in  all  his  glory  !  " 

In  emulation  of  this  great  Dia  de  la  Toma  of  Granada, 
almost  every  village  and  petty  town  of  the  mountains  has 
its  own  anniversary,  commemorating,  with  rustic  pomp 
and  uncouth  ceremonial,  its  deliverance  from  the  Moor- 


VILLAGE  CEREMONIALS.  I93 

isli  joke.  On  these  occasions,  according  to  Mateo,  a 
kind  of  resurrection  takes  place  of  ancient  armor  and 
weapons ;  great  two-handed  swords,  ponderous  arque- 
buses with  matchlocks,  and  other  warlike  relics,  treas- 
ured up  from  generation  to  generation,  since  the  time  of 
the  Conquest ;  and  happy  the  community  that  possesses 
some  old  piece  of  ordnance,  peradventure  one  of  the 
identical  lombards  used  by  the  conquerors ;  it  is  kept 
thundering  along  the  mountains  all  day  long,  provided  the 
community  can  afford  sufficient  expenditure  of  powder. 

In  the  course  of  the  day  a  kind  of  warlike  drama  is 
enacted.  Some  of  the  populace  parade  the  streets,  fitted 
out  with  the  old  armor,  as  champions  of  the  faith. 
Others  appear  dressed  up  as  Moorish  warriors.  A  tent 
is  pitched  in  the  public  square,  inclosing  an  altar  with  an 
image  of  the  Yirgin.  The  Christian  warriors  approach 
to  perform  their  devotions;  the  infidels  surround  the 
tent  to  prevent  their  entrance  ;  a  mock  fight  ensues  ;  the 
combatants  sometimes  forget  that  they  are  merely  play- 
ing a  part,  and  dry  blows  of  grievous  weight  are  apt  to  be 
exchanged.  The  contest,  however,  invariably  terminates 
in  favor  of  the  good  cause.  The  Moors  are  defeated  and 
taken  prisoners.  The  image  of  the  Virgin,  rescued  from 
thraldom,  is  elevated  in  triumph  ;  a  grand  procession 
succeeds,  in  which  the  conquerors  figure  with  great  ap- 
plause and  vainglory ;  while  their  captives  are  led  in 
chains,  to  the  evident  delight  and  edification  of  the  spec- 
tators. 

13 


194  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

These  celebrations  are  heavy  drains  on  the  treasuries 
of  these  petty  communities,  and  have  sometimes  to  be 
suspended  for  want  of  funds  ;  but,  when  times  grow  bet- 
ter, or  sufficient  money  has  been  hoarded  for  the  pur- 
pose, they  are  resumed  with  new  zeal  and  prodigality. 

Mateo  informed  me  that  he  had  occasionally  assisted 
at  these  fetes  and  taken  a  part  in  the  combats ;  but 
always  on  the  side  of  the  true  faith ;  porque  Sefior,  added 
the  ragged  descendant  of  the  Cardinal  Ximenes,  tapping 
his  breast  with  something  of  an  air, — ^^  porque  Senor^  soy 
Christiano  vkjo" 


LOCAL   TRADITIONS. 


HE  common  people  of  Spain  have  an  Oriental 
passion  for  story-telling,  and  are  fond  of  the 
marvellous.  They  will  gather  round  the  doors 
of  their  cottages  in  summer  evenings,  or  in  the  great 
cavernous  chimney-corners  of  the  ventas  in  the  winter, 
and  listen  with  insatiable  delight  to  miraculous  legends 
of  saints,  perilous  adventures  of  travellers,  and  daring 
exploits  of  robbers  and  contrabandistas.  The  wild  and 
solitary  character  of  the  country,  the  imperfect  diffusion 
of  knowledge,  the  scarceness  of  general  topics  of  con- 
versation, and  the  romantic  adventurous  life  that  every 
one  leads  in  a  land  where  travelling  is  yet  in  its  primitive 
state,  all  contribute  to  cherish  this  love  of  oral  narration, 
and  to  produce  a  strong  infusion  of  the  extravagant  and 
incredible.  There  is  no  theme,  however,  more  prevalent 
and  popular  than  that  of  treasures  buried  by  the  Moors  ; 
it  pervades  the  whole  country.  In  traversing  the  wild 
sierras,  the  scenes  of  ancient  foray  and  exploit,  you  can- 
not see  a  Moorish  atalaya,  or  watch  -  tower,  perched 
among  the  cliffs,  or  beetling  above  its  rock-built  village, 
but  your  muleteer,  on  being  closely  questioned,  will  sus- 

195 


196  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

pend  the  smoking  of  his  cigarillo  to  tell  some  tale  of 
Moslem  gold  buried  beneath  its  foundations ;  nor  is 
there  a  ruined  alcazar  in  a  city  but  has  its  golden 
tradition,  handed  down  from  generation  to  generation 
among  the  poor  people  of  the  neighborhood. 

These,  like  most  popular  fictions,  have  sprung  from 
some  scanty  groundwork  of  fact.  During  the  wars  be- 
tween Moor  and  Christian,  which  distracted  this  country 
for  centuries,  towns  and  castles  were  liable  frequently 
and  suddenly  to  change  owners,  and  the  inhabitants, 
during  sieges  and  assaults,  were  fain  to  bury  their  money 
and  jewels  in  the  earth,  or  hide  them  in  vaults  and  wells, 
as  is  often  done  at  the  present  day  in  the  despotic  and 
belligerent  countries  of  the  East.  At  the  time  of  the  ex- 
pulsion of  the  Moors  also,  many  of  them  concealed  their 
most  precious  effects,  hoping  that  their  exile  would  be 
but  temporary,  and  that  they  would  be  enabled  to  return 
and  retrieve  their  treasures  at  some  future  day.  It  is 
certain  that  from  time  to  time  hoards  of  gold  and  silver 
coin  have  been  accidentally  digged  up,  after  a  lapse  of 
centuries,  from  among  the  ruins  of  Moorish  fortresses 
and  habitations  ;  and  it  requires  but  a  few  facts  of  the 
kind  to  give  birth  to  a  thousand  fictions. 

The  stories  thus  originating  have  generally  something 
of  an  Oriental  tinge,  and  are  marked  with  that  mixture 
of  the  Arabic  and  the  Gothic  which  seems  to  me  to  char- 
acterize everything  in  Spain,  and  especially  in  its  south- 
ern provinces.     The  hidden  wealth  is  always  laid  under 


MARVELLOUS  TRADITIONS,  197 

magic  spell,  and  secured  by  charm  and  talisman.  Some- 
times it  is  guarded  by  uncouth  monsters  or  fiery  dra= 
gons,  sometimes  by  enchanted  Moors,  who  sit  by  it  in 
armor,  with  drawn  swords,  but  motionless  as  statues, 
maintaining  a  sleepless  watch  for  ages. 

The  Alhambra  of  course,  from  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances of  its  history,  is  a  strong-hold  for  popular  fic- 
tions of  the  kind ;  and  various  relics,  digged  up  from 
time  to  time,  have  contributed  to  strengthen  them.  At 
one  time  an  earthen  vessel  was  found  containing  Moorish 
coins  and  the  skeleton  of  a  cock,  which,  according  to  the 
opinion  of  certain  shrewd  inspectors,  must  have  been 
buried  alive.  At  another  time  a  vessel  was  dug  up  con- 
taining a  great  scarabseus  or  beetle  of  baked  clay,  cov- 
ered with  Arabic  inscriptions,  which  was  pronounced  a 
prodigious  amulet  of  occult  virtues.  In  this  way  the 
wits  of  the  ragged  brood  who  inhabit  the  Alhambra 
have  been  set  wool-gathering,  until  there  is  not  a  hall, 
nor  tower,  nor  vault,  of  the  old  fortress,  that  has 
not  been  made  the  scene  of  some  marvellous  tradition. 
Having,  I  trust,  in  the  preceding  papers  made  the 
reader  in  some  degree  familiar  with  the  localities  of 
the  Alhambra,  I  shall  now  launch  out  more  largely 
into  the  wonderful  legends  connected  with  it,  and 
which  I  have  diligently  wrought  into  shape  and  form, 
from  various  legendary  scraps  and  hints  picked  up  in 
the  course  of  my  perambulations, — in  the  same  manner 
that  an  antiquary  works  out  a  regular  historical  docu- 


198  THE  ALHAMBRA, 

ment  from  a  few  scattered  letters  of  an  almost  defaced 
inscription. 

If  anything  in  these  legends  should  shock  the  faith  of 
the  over-scrupulous  reader,  he  must  remember  the  na- 
ture of  the  place,  and  make  due  allowances.  He  must 
not  expect  here  the  same  laws  of  probability  that  govern 
commonplace  scenes  and  every-day  life ;  he  must  remem- 
ber that  he  treads  the  halls  of  an  enchanted  palace,  and 
that  all  is  **  haunted  ground" 


THE  HOUSE   OF  THE  WEATHERCOCK. 

N  the  brow  of  the  lofty  hill  of  the  Albaycin,  the 
highest  part  of  Granada,  and  which  rises  from 
the  narrow  valley  of  the  Darro,  directly  op- 
posite to  the  Alhambra,  stands  all  that  is  left  of  what 
was  once  a  royal  palace  of  the  Moors.  It  has,  in  fact, 
fallen  into  such  obscurity,  that  it  cost  me  much  trouble 
to  find  it,  though  aided  in  my  researches  by  the  saga- 
cious and  all-knowing  Mateo  Ximenes.  This  edifice  has 
borne  for  centuries  the  name  of  "The  House  of  the 
Weathercock "  (La  casa  del  Gallo  de  Yiento),  from  a 
bronze  figure  on  one  of  its  turrets,  in  ancient  times, 
of  a  warrior  on  horseback,  and  turning  with  every  breeze. 
This  weathercock  was  considered  by  the  Moslems  of 
Granada  a  portentous  talisman.  According  to  some 
traditions,  it  bore  the  following  Arabic  inscription : 

Calet  el  Bedici  Aben  Habuz, 
Quidat  ehahet  Linaabuz. 

Which  has  been  rendered  into  Spanish : 

Dice  el  sabio  Aben  Habuz, 
Que  asi  se  deflende  el  Anduluz. 

199 


200  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

And  into  Englisli : 

In  this  way,  says  Aben  Habuz  the  Wise, 
Andaluz  guards  against  surprise. 

This  Aben  Habuz,  according  to  some  of  the  old  Moor- 
ish chronicles,  was  a  captain  in  the  invading  army  of 
Taric,  one  of  the  conquerors  of  Spain,  who  left  him  as 
Alcayde  of  Granada.  He  is  supposed  to  have  intended 
this  effigy  as  a  perpetual  warning  to  the  Moslems  of  An- 
daluz, that,  surrounded  by  foes,  their  safety  depended 
upon  their  being  always  on  their  guard  and  ready  for  the 
field. 

Others,  among  whom  is  the  Christian  historian  Mar- 
mol,  affirms  "Badis  Aben  Habus  "  to  have  been  a  Moor- 
ish sultan  of  Granada,  and  that  the  weathercock  was  in- 
tended as  a  perpetual  admonition  of  the  instability  of 
Moslem  power,  bearing  the  following  words  in  Arabic  : 

"  Thus  Ibn  Habus  al  badise  predicts  Andalus  shall  one 
day  vanish  and  pass  away."  * 

Another  version  of  this  portentous  inscription  is  given 
by  a  Moslem  historian,  on  the  authority  of  Sidi  Hasan, 
a  faquir  who  flourished  about  the  time  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella,  and  who  was  present  at  the  taking  down  of  the 
weathercock,  when  the  old  Kassaba  was  undergoing  re- 
pairs. 

"I  saw  it,"  says  the  venerable  faquir,  "with  my  own 

*  Marmol,  Hist.  Rebellion  of  the  Moors, 


THE  TEMPEST.  201 

eyes ;  it  was  of  a  heptagonal  shape,  and  had  the  follow- 
ing inscription  in  verse  : 

"  The  palace  at  fair  Granada  presents  a  talisman." 

"  The  horseman,  though  a  solid  body,  turns  with  every 
wind." 

"  This  to  a  wise  man  reveals  a  mystery.  In  a  little 
while  comes  a  calamity  to  ruin  both  the  palace  and  its 
owner." 

In  effect  it  was  not  long  after  this  meddling  with  the 
portentous  weathercock  that  the  following  event  oc- 
curred. As  old  Muley  Abul  Hassan,  the  king  of  Gra- 
nada, was  seated  under  a  sumptuous  pavilion,  reviewing 
his  troops,  who  paraded  before  him  in  armor  of  polished 
steel  and  gorgeous  silken  robes,  mounted  on  fleet  steeds, 
and  equipped  with  swords,  spears,  and  shields  embossed 
with  gold  and  silver, — suddenly  a  tempest  was  seen 
hurrying  from  the  southwest.  In  a  little  while  black 
clouds  overshadowed  the  heavens  and  burst  forth  with  a 
deluge  of  rain.  Torrents  came  roaring  down  from  the 
mountains,  bringing  with  them  rocks  and  trees ;  the 
Darro  overflowed  its  banks ;  mills  were  swept  away, 
bridges  destroyed,  gardens  laid  waste  ;  the  inundation 
rushed  into  the  city,  undermining  houses,  drowning  their 
inhabitants,  and  overflowing  even  the  square  of  the  Great 
Mosque.  The  people  rushed  in  affright  to  the  mosques 
to  implore  the  mercy  of  Allah,  regarding  this  uproar  of 
the  elements  as  the  harbinger  of  dreadful  calamities ; 
and,  indeed,  according  to  the  Arabian  historian  Al  Mak- 


202  2'^^  ALHAMBRA. 

kari,  it  was  but  a  type  and  prelude  of  the  direful  war 
which  ended  in  the  downfall  of  the  Moslem  kingdom  of 
Granada. 

I  have  thus  given  historic  authorities  sufficient  to  show 
the  portentous  mysteries  connected  with  the  House  of 
the  Weathercock,  and  its  talismanic  horseman. 

I  now  proceed  to  relate  still  more  surprising  things 
about  Aben  Habuz  and  his  palace ;  for  the  truth  of 
which,  should  any  doubt  be  entertained,  I  refer  the  dubi- 
ous reader  to  Mateo  Ximenes  and  his  fellow-historiogra- 
phers of  the  Alhambra. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER 


N  old  times,  many  hundred  years  ago,  there 
was  a  Moorish  king  named  Aben  Habuz,  who 
reigned  over  the  kingdom  of  Granada.  He  was 
a  retired  conqueror,  that  is  to  say,  one  who,  having  in 
his  more  youthful  days  led  a  life  of  constant  foray  and 
depredation,  now  that  he  was  grown  feeble  and  superan- 
nuated, "languished  for  repose,"  and  desired  nothing 
more  than  to  live  at  peace  with  all  the  world,  to  husband 
his  laurels,  and  to  enjoy  in  quiet  the  possessions  he  had 
wrested  from  his  neighbors. 

It  so  happened,  however,  that  this  most  reasonable 
and  pacific  old  monarch  had  young  rivals  to  deal  with  ; 
princes  full  of  his  early  passion  for  fame  and  fighting, 
and  who  were  disposed  to  call  him  to  account  for  the 
scores  he  had  run  up  with  their  fathers.  Certain  distant 
districts  of  his  own  territories,  also,  which  during  the 
days  of  his  vigor  he  had  treated  v/ith  a  high  hand,  were 
prone,  now  that  he  languished  for  repose,  to  rise  in  re- 
bellion and  threaten  to  invest  him  in  his  capital.  Thus 
he  had  foes  on  every  side  ;  and  as  Granada  is  surrounded 
by  wild  and  craggy  mountains,  which  hide  the  approach 

303 


204  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

of  an  enemy,  tlie  unfortunate  Aben  Habuz  was  kept  in  a 
constant  state  of  vigilance  and  alarm,  not  knowing  in 
what  quarter  hostilities  might  break  out. 

It  was  in  vain  that  he  built  watch-towers  on  the  moun- 
tains, and  stationed  guards  at  every  pass  with  orders  to 
make  fires  by  night  and  smoke  by  day,  on  the  approach 
of  an  enemy.  His  alert  foes,  baffling  every  precaution, 
would  break  out  of  some  unthought-of  defile,  ravage  his 
lands  beneath  his  very  nose,  and  then  make  off  with 
prisoners  and  booty  to  the  mountains.  Was  ever  peace- 
able and  retired  conqueror  in  a  more  uncomfortable  pre- 
dicament ? 

While  Aben  Habuz  was  harassed  by  these  perplexities 
and  molestations,  an  ancient  Arabian  physician  arrived 
at  his  court.  His  gray  beard  descended  to  his  girdle, 
and  he  had  every  mark  of  extreme  age,  yet  he  had  trav- 
elled almost  the  whole  way  from  Egypt  on  foot,  with  no 
other  aid  than  a  staff,  marked  with  hieroglyphics.  His 
fame  had  preceded  him.  His  name  was  Ibrahim  Ebn 
Abu  Ayub  ;  he  was  said  to  have  lived  ever  since  the  days 
of  Mahomet,  and  to  be  son  of  Abu  Ayub  ;  the  last  of  the 
companions  of  the  Prophet.  He  had,  when  a  child,  fol- 
lowed the  conquering  army  of  Amru  into  Egypt,  where 
he  had  remained  many  years  studying  the  dark  sciences, 
and  particularly  magic,  among  the  Egyptian  priests. 

It  was,  moreover,  said  that  he  had  found  out  the  secret 
of  prolonging  life,  by  means  of  which  he  had  arrived  to 
the  great  age  of  upwards  of  two  centuries,  though,  as  h© 


THE  MARVEL  OF  B0B8A.  205 

did  not  discover  the  secret  until  well  stricken  in  years, 
he  could  only  perpetuate  his  gray  hairs  and  wrinkles. 

This  wonderful  old  man  was  honorably  entertained 
by  the  king;  who,  like  most  superannuated  monarchs, 
began  to  take  physicians  into  great  favor.  He  would 
have  assigned  him  an  apartment  in  his  palace,  but  the 
astrologer  preferred  a  cave  in  the  side  of  the  hill  which 
rises  above  the  city  of  Granada,  being  the  same  on  which 
the  Alhambra  has  since  been  built.  He  caused  the  cave 
to  be  enlarged  so  as  to  form  a  spacious  and  lofty  hall, 
with  a  circular  hole  at  the  top,  through  which,  as 
through  a  well,  he  could  see  the  heavens  and  behold  the 
stars  even  at  mid-day.  The  walls  of  this  hall  were 
covered  with  Egyptian  hieroglyphics  with  cabalistic  sym- 
bols, and  with  the  figures  of  the  stars  in  their  signs. 
This  hall  he  furnished  with  many  implements,  fabricated 
under  his  directions  by  cunning  artificers  of  Granada, 
but  the  occult  properties  of  which  were  known  only  to 
himself. 

In  a  little  while  the  sage  Ibrahim  became  the  bosom 
counsellor  of  the  king,  who  applied  to  him  for  advice  in 
every  emergency.  Aben  Habuz  was  once  inveighing 
against  the  injustice  of  his  neighbors,  and  bewailing  the 
restless  vigilance  he  had  to  observe  to  guard  himself 
against  their  invasions ;  when  he  had  finished,  the  as- 
trologer remained  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  replied, 
"  Know,  O  king,  that,  when  I  was  in  Egypt,  I  beheld  a 
great  marvel  devised  by  a  pagan  priestess  of  old.     On  a 


206  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

mountain,  above  tlie  city  of  Borsa,  and  overlooking  tlie 
great  valley  of  the  Nile,  was  a  figure  of  a  ram,  and  above 
it  a  figure  of  a  cock,  both  of  molten  brass,  and  turning 
upon  a  pivot.  Whenever  the  country  was  threatened 
with  invasion,  the  ram  would  turn  in  the  direction  of  the 
enemy,  and  the  cock  would  crow ;  upon  this  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  city  knew  of  the  danger,  and  of  the  quarter 
from  which  it  was  approaching,  and  could  take  timely 
means  to  guard  against  it." 

"  God  is  great ! "  exclaimed  the  pacific  Aben  Habuz, 
"  what  a  treasure  would  be  such  a  ram  to  keep  an  eye 
upon  these  mountains  around  me  ;  and  then  such  a  cock, 
to  crow  in  time  of  danger !  Allah  Akbar !  how  securely 
I  might  sleep  in  my  palace  with  such  sentinels  on  the 
top!" 

The  astrologer  waited  until  the  ecstasies  of  the  king 
had  subsided,  and  then  proceeded. 

"  After  the  victorious  Amru  (may  he  rest  in  peace !) 
had  finished  his  conquest  of  Egypt,  I  remained  among 
the  priests  of  the  land,  studying  the  rites  and  ceremonies 
of  their  idolatrous  faith,  and  seeking  to  make  myself 
master  of  the  hidden  knowledge  for  which  they  are 
renowned.  I  was  one  day  seated  on  the  banks  of  the 
Nile,  conversing  with  an  ancient  priest,  when  he  pointed 
to  the  mighty  pyramids  which  rose  like  mountains  out  of 
the  neighboring  desert.  'All  that  we  can  teach  thee,' 
said  he,  '  is  nothing  to  the  knowledge  locked  up  in  those 
mighty  piles.     In  the  centre  of  the  central  pyramid  is  a 


THE  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  207 

sepulchral  chamber,  in  which  is  enclosed  the  mummy  ol 
the  high-priest  who  aided  in  rearing  that  stupendous 
pile  ;  and  with  him  is  buried  a  wondrous  book  of  knowl- 
edge, containing  all  the  secrets  of  magic  and  art.  This 
book  was  given  to  Adam  after  his  fall,  and  was  handed 
down  from  generation  to  generation  to  King  Solomon  the 
"Wise,  and  by  its  aid  he  built  the  Temple  of  Jerusalemc 
How  it  came  into  the  possession  of  the  builder  of 
the  pyramids  is  known  to  Him  alone  who  knows  all 
things.' 

"  When  I  heard  these  words  of  the  Egyptian  priest, 
my  heart  burned  to  get  possession  of  that  book.  I  could 
command  the  services  of  many  of  the  soldiers  of  our  con- 
quering army,  and  of  a  number  of  the  native  Egyptians  : 
with  these  I  set  to  work,  and  pierced  the  solid  mass  of 
the  pyramid,  until,  after  great  toil,  I  came  upon  one  of 
its  interior  and  hidden  passages.  Following  this  up,  and 
threading  a  fearful  labyrinth,  I  penetrated  into  the  very 
heart  of  the  pyramids,  even  to  the  sepulchral  chamber, 
where  the  mummy  of  the  high-priest  had  lain  for  ages. 
I  broke  through  the  outer  cases  of  the  mummy,  unfolded 
its  many  wrappers  and  bandages,  and  at  length  found  the 
precious  volume  on  its  bosom.  I  seized  it  with  a  trem- 
bling hand,  and  groped  my  way  out  of  the  pyramid,  leav- 
ing the  mummy  in  its  dark  and  silent  sepulchre,  there  to 
await  the  final  day  of  resurrection  and  judgment." 

"  Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  exclaimed  Aben  Habuz,  "  thou 
hast  been  a  great  traveller,  and  seen  marvellous  things ; 


208  TS^  ALHAMBRA. 

but  of  what  avail  to  me  is  the  secret  of  the  pyramid,  and 
the  Yohime  of  knowledge  of  the  wise  Solomon  ?  " 

"  This  it  is,  O  king  !  By  the  study  of  that  book  I  am 
instructed  in  all  magic  arts,  and  can  command  the  assist- 
ance of  genii  to  accomplish  my  plans.  The  mystery  of 
the  Talisman  of  Borsa  is  therefore  familiar  to  me,  and 
such  a  talisman  can  I  make,  nay,  one  of  greater  virtues." 

"  O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  cried  Aben  Habuz,  "  bet- 
ter were  such  a  talisman  than  all  the  watch-towers  on 
the  hills,  and  sentinels  upon  the  borders.  Give  me  such 
a  safeguard,  and  the  riches  of  my  treasury  are  at  thy 
command." 

The  astrologer  immediately  set  to  work  to  gratify  the 
wishes  of  the  monarch.  He  caused  a  great  tower  to  be 
erected  upon  the  top  of  the  royal  palace,  which  stood  on 
the  brow  of  the  hill  of  the  Albaycin,  The  tower  was 
built  of  stones  brought  from  Egypt,  and  taken,  it  is  said, 
from  one  of  the  pyramids.  In  the  upper  part  of  the 
tower  was  a  circular  hall,  with  windows  looking  towards 
every  point  of  the  compass,  and  before  each  window  was 
a  table,  on  which  was  arranged,  as  on  a  chess-board,  a 
mimic  army  of  horse  and  foot,  with  the  effigy  of  the 
potentate  that  ruled  in  that  direction,  all  carved  of  wood. 
To  each  of  these  tables  there  was  a  small  lance,  no  big- 
ger than  a  bodkin,  on  which  were  engraved  certain  Chal- 
daic  characters.  This  hall  was  kept  constantly  closed, 
by  a  gate  of  brass,  with  a  great  lock  of  steel,  the  key  of 
which  was  in  possession  of  the  king. 


THE  WARLIKE  TALISMAN.  209 

On  the  top  of  the  tower  was  a  bronze  figure  of  a  Moor- 
ish horseman,  fixed  on  a  pivot,  with  a  shield  on  one  arm, 
and  his  lance  elevated  perpendicularly.  The  face  of  this 
horseman  was  towards  the  city,  as  if  keeping  guard  over 
it ;  but  if  any  foe  were  at  hand,  the  figure  would  turn  in 
that  direction,  and  would  level  the  lance  as  if  for  action. 

When  this  talisman  was  finished,  Aben  Habuz  was  all 
impatient  to  try  its  virtues,  and  longed  as  ardently  for 
an  invasion  as  he  had  3ver  sighed  after  repose.  His 
desire  was  soon  gratified.  Tidings  were  brought,  early 
one  morning,  by  the  sentinel  appointed  to  watch  the 
tower,  that  the  face  of  the  bronze  horseman  was  turned 
towards  the  mountains  of  Elvira,  and  that  his  lance 
pointed  directly  against  the  Pass  of  Lope. 

"Let  the  drums  and  trumpets  sound  to  arms,  and  all 
Granada  be  put  on  the  alert,"  said  Aben  Habuz. 

"O  king,"  said  the  astrologer,  "let  not  your  city  be 
disquieted,  nor  your  warriors  called  to  arms;  we  need 
no  aid  of  force  to  deliver  you  from  your  enemies.  Dis- 
miss your  attendants,  and  let  us  proceed  alone  to  the 
secret  hall  of  the  tower." 

The  ancient  Aben  Habuz  mounted  the  staircase  of  the 
tower,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  the  still  more  ancient  Ibra- 
him Ebn  Abu  Ayub,  They  unlocked  the  brazen  door 
and  entered.  The  window  that  looked  towards  the  Pass 
of  Lope  was  open.  "  In  this  direction,"  said  the  astrol- 
oger, "  lies  the  danger ;  approach,  O  king,  and  behold 
the  mystery  of  the  table." 
14 


210  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

King  Aben  Habuz  approached  the  seeming  chess- 
board, on  which  were  arranged  the  small  wooden  effigies, 
when,  to  his  surprise,  he  perceived  that  they  were  all  in 
motion.  The  horses  pranced  and  curveted,  the  warriors 
brandished  their  weapons,  and  there  was  a  faint  sound 
of  drums  and  trumpets,  and  the  clang  of  arms,  and 
neighing  of  steeds ;  but  all  no  louder,  nor  more  distinct, 
than  the  hum  of  the  bee,  or  the  summer-fly,  in  the 
drowsy  ear  of  him  who  lies  at  noontide  in  the  shade. 

"  Behold,  O  king,"  said  the  astrologer,  "  a  proof  that 
thy  enemies  are  even  now  in  the  field.  They  must  be 
advancing  through  yonder  mountains,  by  the  Pass  of 
Lope.  Would  you  produce  a  panic  and  confusion 
amongst  them,  and  cause  them  to  retreat  without  loss  of 
life,  strike  these  effigies  with  the  but-end  of  this  magic 
lance  ;  would  you  cause  bloody  feud  and  carnage,  strike 
with  the  point." 

A  livid  streak  passed  across  the  countenance  of  Aben 
Habuz ;  he  seized  the  lance  with  trembling  eagerness  ; 
his  gray  beard  wagged  with  exultation  as  he  tottered 
toward  the  table  :  "  Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  exclaimed  he,  in 
chuckling  tone,  "  I  think  we  will  have  a  little  blood  !  " 

So  saying,  he  thrust  the  magic  lance  into  some  of  the 
pigmy  effigies,  and  belabored  others  with  the  but-end, 
upon  which  the  former  fell  as  dead  upon  the  board,  and 
the  rest  turning  upon  each  other,  began,  pell-mell,  a 
chance-medley  fight. 

It  was  with  difficulty  the   astrologer  could   stay  the 


THE  HERMITAGE.  211 

hand  of  the  most  pacific  of  monarchs,  and  prevent  him 
from  absolutely  exterminating  his  foes  ;  at  length  he 
prevailed  upon  him  to  leave  the  tower,  and  to  send  out 
scouts  to  the  mountains  by  the  Pass  of  Lope. 

They  returned  with  the  intelligence  that  a  Christian 
army  had  advanced  through  the  heart  of  the  Sierra, 
almost  within  sight  of  Granada,  where  a  dissension  had 
broken  out  among  them  ;  they  had  turned  their  weapons 
against  each  other,  and  after  much  slaughter  had  re- 
treated over  the  border. 

Aben  Habuz  was  transported  with  joy  on  thus  proving 
the  efficacy  of  the  talisman.  "  At  length,"  said  he,  "  I 
shall  lead  a  life  of  tranquillity,  and  have  all  my  enemies 
in  my  power.  O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,  what  can  I  be- 
stow on  thee  in  reward  for  such  a  blessing  ?  " 

"  The  wants  of  an  old  man  and  a  philosopher,  O  king, 
are  few  and  simple  ;  grant  me  but  the  means  of  fitting  up 
my  cave  as  a  suitable  hermitage,  and  I  am  content." 

"  How  noble  is  the  moderation  of  the  truly  wise  !  "  ex- 
claimed Aben  Habuz,  secretly  pleased  at  the  cheapness 
of  the  recompense.  He  summoned  his  treasurer,  and 
bade  him  dispense  whatever  sums  might  be  required  by 
Ibrahim  to  complete  and  furnish  his  hermitage. 

The  astrologer  now  gave  orders  to  have  various  cham- 
bers hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock,  so  as  to  form  ranges  of 
apartments  connected  with  his  astrological  hall ;  these 
he  caused  to  be  furnished  with  luxiirious  ottomans  and 
divans,  and  the  walls  to  be  hung  with  the  richest  silks  of 


212  TEE  ALHAMBBA, 

Damascus.  "  I  am  an  old  man,"  said  he,  "  and  can  no 
longer  rest  my  bones  on  stone  couches,  and  these  damp 
walls  require  covering." 

He  had  baths  too  constructed,  and  provided  with  all 
kinds  of  perfumes  and  aromatic  oils.  "  For  a  bath,"  said 
he,  "  is  necessary  to  counteract  the  rigidity  of  age,  and 
to  restore  freshness  and  suppleness  to  the  frame  with- 
ered by  study." 

He  caused  the  apartments  to  be  hung  with  innumer- 
able silver  and  crystal  lamps,  which  he  filled  with  a  fra- 
grant oil  prepared  according  to  a  receipt  discovered  by 
him  in  the  tombs  of  Egypt.  This  oil  was  perpetual  in 
its  nature,  and  diffused  a  soft  radiance  like  the  tempered 
light  of  day.  "  The  light  of  the  sun,"  said  he,  "  is  too 
gairish  and  violent  for  the  eyes  of  an  old  man,  and  the 
light  of  the  lamp  is  more  congenial  to  the  studies  of  a 
philosopher." 

The  treasurer  of  King  Aben  Habuz  groaned  at  the 
sums  daily  demanded  to  fit  up  this  hermitage,  and  he 
carried  his  complaints  to  the  king.  The  royal  word,  how- 
ever, had  been  given  ;  Aben  Habuz  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders :  "  We  must  have  patience,"  said  he  ;  "  this  old  man 
has  taken  his  idea  of  a  philosophic  retreat  from  the  in- 
terior of  the  pyramids,  and  of  the  vast  ruins  of  Egypt ; 
but  all  things  have  an  end,  and  so  will  the  furnishing  of 
his  cavern." 

The  king  was  in  the  right ;  the  hermitage  was  at 
length  complete,  and  formed  a  sumptuous  subterranean 


THE  SOLACE  OF  A  PHILOSOPHEB.  218 

palace.  The  astrologer  expressed  himself  perfectly  con- 
tent, and,  shutting  himself  up,  remained  for  three  whole 
days  buried  in  study.  At  the  end  of  that  time  he  ap- 
peared again  before  the  treasurer.  "  One  thing  more  is 
necessary,"  said  he,  "  one  trifling  solace  for  the  intervals 
of  mental  labor." 

"O  wise  Ibrahim,  I  am  bound  to  furnish  everything 
necessary  for  thy  solitude  ;  what  more  dost  thou  re- 
quire .'' 

"  I  would  fain  have  a  few  dancing- women." 
"  Dancing- women  !  "    echoed   the  treasurer,   with   sur- 
prise. 

JL 

"  Dancing-women,"  replied  the  sage,  gravely ;  "  and  let 
i^hem  be  young  and  fair  to  look  upon ;  for  the  sight  of 
youth  and  beauty  is  refreshing.  A  few  will  suffice,  for  I 
am  a  philosopher  of  simple  habits  and  easily  satisfied." 

While  the  philosophic  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub  passed 
his  time  thus  sagely  in  his  hermitage,  the  pacific  Aben 
Habuz  carried  on  furious  campaigns  in  effigy  in  his 
tower.  It  was  a  glorious  thing  for  an  old  man,  like  him- 
self, of  quiet  habits,  to  have  war  made  easy,  and  to  be 
enabled  to  amuse  himself  in  his  chamber  by  brushing 
away  whole  armies  like  so  many  swarms  of  flies. 

For  a  time  he  rioted  in  the  indulgence  of  his  humors, 
and  even  taunted  and  insulted  his  neighbors,  to  induce 
them  to  make  incursions  ;  but  by  degrees  they  grew  wary 
from  repeated  disasters,  until  no  one  ventured  to  invade 
his  territories.     For  many  moiiths  the  bronze  horseman 


214  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

remained  on  the  peace  establishment,  with  his  lance  ele- 
vated in  the  air ;  and  the  worthy  old  monarch  began  to 
repine  at  the  want  of  his  accustomed  sport,  and  to  grow 
peevish  at  his  monotonous  tranquillity. 

At  length,  one  day,  the  talismanic  horseman  veered 
suddenly  round,  and  lowering  his  lance,  made  a  dead 
point  towards  the  mountains  of  Guadix.  Aben  Habuz 
hastened  to  his  tower,  but  the  magic  table  in  that  direc- 
tion remained  quiet :  not  a  single  warrior  was  in  motion. 
Perplexed  at  the  circumstance,  he  sent  forth  a  troop  of 
horse  to  scour  the  mountains  and  reconnoitre.  They 
returned  after  three  days'  absence. 

"  "We  have  searched  every  mountain  pass,"  said  they, 
"but  not  a  helm  nor  spear  was  stirring.  All  that  we 
have  found  in  the  course  of  our  foray,  was  a  Christian 
damsel  of  surpassing  beauty,  sleeping  at  noontide  beside 
a  fountain,  whom  we  have  brought  away  captive." 

"A  damsel  of  surpassing  beauty!"  exclaimed  Aben 
Habuz,  his  eyes  gleaming  with  animation;  "let  her  be 
conducted  into  my  presence." 

The  beautiful  damsel  was  accordingly  conducted  into 
his  presence.  She  was  arrayed  with  all  the  luxury  of  or- 
nament that  had  prevailed  among  the  Gothic  Spaniards 
at  the  time  of  the  Arabian  conquest.  Pearls  of  dazzling 
whiteness  were  entwined  with  her  raven  tresses;  and 
jewels  sparkled  on  her  forehead,  rivalling  the  lustre  of 
her  eyes.  Around  her  neck  was  a  golden  chain,  to  which 
was  suspended  a  silver  lyre,  which  hung  by  her  side« 


THE  CAPTIVE  BEAUTY.  215 

The  flashes  of  her  dark  refulgent  eye  were  like  sparks 
of  fire  on  the  withered  yet  combustible,  heart  of  Aben 
Habuz ;  the  swimming  voluptuousness  of  her  gait  made 
his  senses  reel.  "  Fairest  of  women,"  cried  he,  with  rap- 
ture, "who  and  what  art  thou? " 

"  The  daughter  of  one  of  the  Gothic  princes,  who  but 
lately  ruled  over  this  land.  The  armies  of  my  father 
have  been  destroyed,  as  if  by  magic,  among  these  moun- 
tains ;  he  has  been  driven  into  exile,  and  his  daughter  is 
a  captive." 

"Beware,  O  king! "  whispered  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub, 
"  this  may  be  one  of  those  northern  sorceresses  of  whom 
we  have  heard,  who  assume  the  most  seductive  forms  to 
beguile  the  unwary.  Methinks  I  read  Avitchcraft  in  her 
eye,  and  sorcery  in  every  movement.  Doubtless  this  is 
the  enemy  pointed  out  by  the  talisman." 

"Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  replied  the  king,  "thou  art  a  wise 
man,  I  grant,  a  conjurer  for  aught  I  know ;  but  thou 
art  little  versed  in  the  ways  of  woman.  In  that  knowl- 
edge will  I  yield  to  no  man ;  no,  not  to  the  wise  Solo- 
mon himself,  notwithstanding  the  number  of  his  wives 
and  concubines.  As  to  this  damsel,  I  see  no  harm 
in  her ;  she  is  fair  to  look  upon,  and  finds  favor  in  my 
eyes." 

"  Hearken,  O  king  !  "  replied  the  astrologer.  "  I  have 
given  thee  many  victories  by  means  of  my  talisman,  but 
have  never  shared  any  of  the  spoil.  Give  me  then  this 
stray  captive,  to  solace  me  in  my  solitude  with  her  silver 


216  TEE  ALHAMBBA. 

lyre.  If  she  be  indeed  a  sorceress,  I  have  counter  spells 
that  set  her  charms  at  defiance." 

"What!  more  women !  "  cried  Aben  Habuz.  "Hast 
thou  not  already  dancing  -  women  enough  to  solace 
thee?" 

"  Dancing- women  have  I,  it  is  true,  but  no  singing- 
women.  I  would  fain  have  a  little  minstrelsy  to  refresh 
my  mind  when  weary  with  the  toils  of  study." 

"  A  truce  with  thy  hermit  cravings,"  said  the  king,  im- 
patiently. "  This  damsel  have  I  marked  for  my  own.  I 
see  much  comfort  in  her  :  even  such  comfort  as  David, 
the  father  of  Solomon  the  Wise,  found  in  the  society  of 
Abishag  the  Shunamite." 

Further  solicitations  and  remonstrances  of  the  astrolo- 
ger only  provoked  a  more  peremptory  reply  from  the 
monarch,  and  they  parted  in  high  displeasure.  The  sage 
shut  himself  up  in  his  hermitage  to  brood  over  his  dis- 
appointment ;  ere  he  departed,  however,  he  gave  the  king 
one  more  warning  to  beware  of  his  dangerous  captive. 
But  where  is  the  old  man  in  love  that  will  listen  to 
counsel  ?  Aben  Habuz  resigned  himself  to  the  full  sway 
of  his  passion.  His  only  study  was  how  to  render  him- 
self amiable  in  the  eyes  of  the  Gothic  beauty.  He  had 
not  youth  to  recommend  him,  it  is  true,  but  then  he  had 
riches ;  and  when  a  lover  is  old,  he  is  generally  generous. 
The  Zacatin  of  Granada  was  ransacked  for  the  most  pre- 
cious merchandise  of  the  East;  silks,  jewels,  precious 
gems,    exquisite    perfumes,   all    that    Asia    and    Africa 


THE  SILVER  LYBE.  217 

yielded  of  rich  and  rare,  were  lavished  upon  the  princess. 
All  kinds  of  spectacles  and  festivities  were  devised  for 
her  entertainment ;  minstrelsy,  dancing,  tournaments, 
bull-fights ; — Granada  for  a  time  was  a  scene  of  perpetual 
pageant.  The  Gothic  princess  regarded  all  this  splendor 
with  the  air  of  one  accustomed  to  magnificence.  She  re- 
ceived everything  as  a  homage  due  to  her  rank,  or  rather 
to  her  beauty ;  for  beauty  is  more  lofty  in  its  exactions 
even  than  rank.  Nay,  she  seemed  to  take  a  secret  pleas- 
ure in  exciting  the  monarch  to  expenses  that  made  his 
treasury  shrink,  and  then  treating  his  extravagant  gen- 
erosity as  a  mere  matter  of  course.  With  all  his  assi- 
duity and  munificence,  also,  the  venerable  lover  could 
not  flatter  himself  that  he  had  made  any  impression  on 
her  heart.  She  never  frowned  on  him,  it  is  true,  but  then 
she  never  smiled.  Whenever  he  began  to-  plead  his  pas- 
sion, she  struck  her  silver  lyre.  There  was  a  mystic 
charm  in  the  sound.  In  an  instant  the  monarch  began 
to  nod;  a  drowsiness  stole  over  him,  and  he  gradually 
sank  into  a  sleep,  from  which  he  awoke  wonderfully  re- 
freshed, but  perfectly  cooled  for  the  time  of  his  passion. 
This  was  very  baffling  to  his  suit ;  but  then  these  slum- 
bers were  accompanied  by  agreeable  dreams,  which  com- 
pletely enthralled  the  senses  of  the  drowsy  lover ;  so  he 
continued  to  dream  on,  while  all  Granada  scoffed  at  his 
infatuation,  and  groaned  at  the  treasures  lavished  for  a 
song. 
At  length  a  danger  burst  on  the  head  of  Aben  Habuz, 


2l8  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

against  which  his  talisman  yielded  him  no  warning.  An 
insurrection  broke  out  in  his  very  capital ;  his  palace 
was  surrounded  by  an  armed  rabble,  who  menaced  his 
life  and  the  life  of  his  Christian  paramour.  A  spark  of 
his  ancient  warlike  spirit  was  awakened  in  the  breast  of 
the  monarch.  At  the  head  of  a  handful  of  his  guards  he 
sallied  forth,  put  the  rebels  to  flight,  and  crushed  the  in- 
surrection in  the  bud. 

When  quiet  was  again  restored,  he  sought  the  astrol- 
oger, who  still  remained  shut  up  in  his  hermitage,  chew- 
ing the  bitter  cud  of  resentment. 

Aben  Habuz  approached  him  with  a  conciliatory  tone. 
"  O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  said  he,  "  well  didst  thou 
predict  dangers  to  me  from  this  captive  beauty :  tell  me 
then,  thou  who  art  so  quick  at  foreseeing  peril,  what  I 
should  do  to  avert  it." 

"  Put  from  thee  the  infidel  damsel  who  is  the  cause." 

"  Sooner  would  I  part  with  my  kingdom,"  cried  Aben 
Habuz. 

"  Thou  art  in  danger  of  losing  both,"  replied  the  as- 
trologer. 

"  Be  not  harsh  and  angry,  O  most  profound  of  philoso- 
phers ;  consider  the  double  distress  of  a  monarch  and  a 
lover,  and  devise  some  means  of  protecting  me  from  the 
evils  by  which  I  am  menaced.  I  care  not  for  grandeur,  I 
care  not  for  power,  I  languish  only  for  repose ;  would 
that  I  had  some  quiet  retreat  where  I  might  take  refuge 
from  the  world,  and  all  its  cares,  and  pomps,  and  trou- 


THE  OABDEN  6  iV'  IBEM.  219 

bles,  and  devote  the  remainder  of  my  days  to  tranquil- 
lity and  love. 

The  astrologer  regarded  him  for  a  moment  from  undei 
his  bushy  eyebrows. 

"And  wha^  '''':^"Hst  thou  give,  if  I  could  provide  thee 
such  a  retreat  'f 

"  Thou  shouldst  name  thy  own  reward ;  and  whatever 
it  might  be,  if  within  the  scope  of  my  power,  as  my  soul 
liveth,  it  should  be  thine." 

"  Thou  hast  heard,  O  king,  of  the  garden  of  Irem,  one 
of  the  prodigies  of  Arabia  the  happy." 

"  I  have  heard  of  that  garden ;  it  is  recorded  in  the 
Koran,  even  in  the  chapter  entitled  '  The  Dawn  of  Day.' 
I  have,  moreover,  heard  marvellous  things  related  of  it 
by  pilgrims  who  had  been  to  Mecca ;  but  I  considered 
them  wild  fables,  such  as  travellers  are  wont  to  tell  who 
have  visited  remote  countries." 

"  Discredit  not,  O  king,  the  tales  of  travellers,"  re- 
joined  the  astrologer,  gravely,  "  for  they  contain  precious 
rarities  of  knowledge  brought  from  the  ends  of  the  earth. 
As  to  the  palace  and  garden  of  Irem,  what  is  generally 
told  of  them  is  true ;  I  have  seen  them  with  mine  own 
eye^ ; — listen  to  my  adventure,  for  it  has  a  bearing  upon 
the  object  of  your  request. 

"  In  my  younger  days,  when  a  mere  Arab  of  the  des- 
ert, I  tended  my  father's  camels.  In  traversing  the  des- 
ert of  Aden,  one  of  them  strayed  from  the  rest,  and  was 
lost.     I  searched  after  it  for  several  days,  but  in  vain, 


220  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

until,  wearied  and  faint,  I  laid  myself  down  at  noon- 
tide, and  slept  under  a  palm-tree  by  the  side  of  a  scanty 
well.  Wlien  I  awoke  I  found  myself  at  the  gate  of  a 
city.  I  entered,  and  beheld  noble  streets,  and  squares, 
and  market-places ;  but  all  were  silent  and  without  an 
inhabitant.  I  wandered  on  until  I  came  to  a  sumptuous 
palace,  with  a  garden  adorned  with  fountains  and  fish- 
ponds, and  groves  and  flowers,  and  orchards  laden  with 
delicious  fruit ;  but  still  no  one  was  to  be  seen.  Upon 
which,  appalled  at  this  loneliaess,  I  hastened  to  depart ; 
and,  after  issuing  forth  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  I  turned 
to  look  upon  the  place,  but  it  was  no  longer  to  be  seen : 
nothing  but  the  silent  desert  extended  before  my  eyes. 

"  In  the  neighborhood  I  met  with  an  aged  dervise, 
learned  in  the  traditions  and  secrets  of  the  land,  and 
related  to  him  what  had  befallen  me.  *  This,'  said  he, 
'  is  the  far-famed  garden  of  Irem,  one  of  the  wonders  of 
the  desert.  It  only  appears  at  times  to  some  wanderer 
like  thyself,  gladdening  him  with  the  sight  of  towers  and 
palaces  and  garden -walls  overhung  with  richly -laden 
fruit-trees,  and  then  vanishes,  leaving  nothing  but  a 
lonely  desert.  And  this  is  the  story  of  it.  In  old  times, 
when  this  country  was  inhabited  by  the  Addites,  King 
Sheddad,  the  son  of  Ad,  the  great  grand-son  of  Noah, 
founded  here  a  splendid  city.  When  it  was  finished,  and 
he  saw  its  grandeur,  his  heart  was  puffed  up  with  pride 
and  arrogance,  and  he  determined  to  build  a  royal  pal- 
ace, with  gardens  which  should  rival  all  related  in  the 


THE  COMPACT,  221 

Koran  of  tlie  celestial  paradise.  But  the  curse  of  heaven 
fell  upon  him  for  his  presumption.  He  and  his  subjects 
were  swept  from  the  earth,  and  his  splendid  city,  and 
palace,  and  gardens,  were  laid  under  a  perpetual  spell, 
which  hides  them  from  human  sight,  excepting  that  they 
are  seen  at  intervals,  by  way  of  keeping  his  sin  in  per- 
petual remembrance.' 

"  This  story,  O  king,  and  the  wonders  I  had  seen,  ever 
dwelt  in  my  mind ;  and  in  after-years,  when  I  had  been 
in  Egypt,  and  was  possessed  of  the  book  of  knowledge  of 
Solomon  the  Wise,  I  determined  to  return  and  revisit 
the  garden  of  Irem.  I  did  so,  and  found  it  revealed  to 
my  instructed  sight.  I  took  possession  of  the  palace  of 
Sheddad,  and  passed  several  days  in  his  mock  paradise. 
The  genii  who  watch  over  the  place  were  obedient  to  my 
magic  power,  and  revealed  to  me  the  spells  by  which  the 
whole  garden  had  been,  as  it  were,  conjured  into  exist- 
ence, and  by  which  it  was  rendered  invisible.  Such  a 
palace  and  garden,  O  king,  can  I  make  for  thee,  even 
here,  on  the  mountain  above  thy  city.  Do  I  not  know 
all  the  secret  spells  ?  and  am  I  not  in  possession  of  the 
book  of  knowledge  of  Solomon  the  Wise  ?  " 

"  O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub  !  "  exclaimed  Aben  Habuz, 
trembling  with  eagerness,  "  thou  art  a  traveller  indeed, 
and  hast  seen  and  learned  marvellous  things  !  Contrive 
me  such  a  paradise,  and  ask  any  reward,  even  to  the  half 
of  my  kingdom." 

"  Alas ! "  replied  the  other,  "  thou  knowest  I  am  an  old 


222  THE  ALHAMBBA, 

man,  and  a  philosoplier,  and  easily  satisfied ;  all  the  re- 
ward I  ask  is  the  first  beast  of  burden,  with  its  load, 
which  shall  enter  the  magic  portal  of  the  palace." 

The  monarch  gladly  agreed  to  so  moderate  a  stipula- 
tion, and  the  astrologer  began  his  work.  On  the  summit 
of  the  hill,  immediately  above  his  subterranean  her- 
mitage, he  caused  a  great  gateway  or  barbican  to  be 
erected,  opening  through  the  centre  of  a  strong  tower. 

There  was  an  outer  vestibule  or  porch,  with  a  lofty 
arch,  and  within  it  a  portal  secured  by  massive  gates. 
On  the  keystone  of  the  portal  the  astrologer,  with  his 
own  hand,  wrought  the  figure  of  a  huge  key ;  and  on  the 
keystone  of  the  outer  arch  of  the  vestibule,  which  was 
loftier  than  that  of  the  portal,  he  carved  a  gigantic  hand. 
These  were  potent  talismans,  over  which  he  repeated 
many  sentences  in  an  unknown  tongue. 

"When  this  gateway  was  finished,  he  shut  himself  up 
for  two  days  in  his  astrological  hall,  engaged  in  secret 
incantations ;  on  the  third  he  ascended  the  hill,  and 
passed  the  whole  day  on  its  summit.  At  a  late  hour  of 
the  night  he  came  down,  and  presented  himself  before 
Aben  Habuz.  "  At  length,  O  king,"  said  he,  "  my  labor 
is  accomplished.  On  the  summit  of  the  hill  stands  one 
of  the  most  delectable  palaces  that  ever  the  head  of 
man  devised,  or  the  heart  of  man  desired.  It  contains 
sumptuous  halls  and  galleries,  delicious  gardens,  cool 
fountains,  and  fragrant  baths ;  in  a  word,  the  whole 
mountain  is  converted  into  a  paradise.     Like  the  garden 


i  N^IIBIIlll'l 


^"^ 


THE  astrologers'    GATEWAY 


THE  TALI8MAN8.  223 

of  Irem,  it  is  protected  by  a  miglity  cliarm,  which  hides 
it  from  the  view  and  search  of  mortals,  excepting  such 
as  possess  the  secret  of  its  talism'^ns." 

"  Enough !  "  cried  Aben  Habuz,  joyfully,  "  to-morrow 
morning  with  the  first  light  we  wiL  ascend  and  take  pos- 
session." The  happy  monarch  slept  but  little  that  night. 
Scarcely  had  the  rays  of  the  sun  begun  to  play  about  the 
snowy  summit  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  when  he  mounted 
his  steed,  and,  accompanied  only  by  a  few  chosen  attend- 
ants, ascended  a  steep  and  narrow  road  leading  up  the 
hill.  Beside  him,  on  a  white  palfrey,  rode  the  Gothic 
princess,  her  whole  dress  sparkling  with  jewels,  while 
round  her  neck  was  suspended  her  silver  lyre.  The  as- 
trologer walked  on  the  other  side  of  the  king,  assist- 
ing his  steps  with  his  hieroglyphic  staff,  for  he  never 
mounted  steed  of  any  kind. 

Aben  Habuz  looked  to  see  the  towers  of  the  palace 
brightening  above  him,  and  the  embowered  terraces  of 
its  gardens  stretching  along  the  heights ;  but  as  yet 
nothing  of  the  kind  was  to  be  descried.  "  That  is  the 
mystery  and  safeguard  of  the  place,"  said  the  astrologer, 
"nothing  can  be  discerned  until  you  have  passed  the 
spell-bound  gateway,  and  been  put  in  possession  of  the 
place." 

As  they  approached  the  gateway,  the  astrologer  paus- 
ed, and  pointed  out  to  the  king  the  mystic  hand  and  key 
carved  upon  the  portal  of  the  arch.  "  These,"  said  he, 
"are  the  talismans  which  guard  the  entrance  to  this 


224  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

paradise.  Until  yonder  hand  shall  reach  down  and  seize 
that  key,  neither  mortal  power  nor  magic  artifice  can 
prevail  against  the  lord  of  this  mountain." 

While  Aben  Habuz  was  gazing,  with  open  mouth  and 
silent  wonder,  at  these  mystic  talismans,  the  palfrey  of 
the  princess  proceeded,  and  bore  her  in  at  the  portal,  to 
the  very  centre  of  the  barbican. 

"Behold,"  cried  the  astrologer,  "my  promised  reward; 
the  first  animal  with  its  burden  which  should  enter  the 
magic  gateway." 

Aben  Habuz  smiled  at  what  he  considered  a  pleas- 
antry of  the  ancient  man ;  but  when  he  found  him  to  be 
in  earnest,  his  gray  beard  trembled  with  indignation. 

"Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  said  he,  sternly,  "  what  equivoca- 
tion is  this  ?  Thou  knowest  the  meaning  of  my  promise  : 
the  first  beast  of  burden,  with  its  load,  that  should  enter 
this  portal.  Take  the  strongest  mule  in  my  stables,  load 
it  with  the  most  precious  things  of  my  treasury,  and  it  is 
thine  ;  but  dare  not  raise  thy  thoughts  to  her  who  is  the 
delight  of  my  heart." 

"  What  need  I  of  wealth  ?  "  cried  the  astrologer,  scorn- 
fully ;  "  have  I  not  the  boot  of  knowledge  of  Solomon 
the  Wise,  and  through  it  the  command  of  the  secret 
treasures  of  the  earth  ?  The  princess  is  mine  by  right ; 
thy  royal  word  is  pledged  ;  I  claim  her  as  my  own." 

The  princess  looked  down  haughtily  from  her  palfrey, 
and  a  light  smile  of  scorn  curled  her  rosy  lip  at  this 
dispute  between   two  gray-beards  for  the  possession  of 


THE  SUBTERRANEAN  HALL.  225 

youth  and  beauty.  The  wrath  of  the  monarch  got  the 
better  of  his  discretion.  "  Base  son  of  the  desert,"  cried 
he,  "  thou  mayst  be  master  of  many  arts,  but  know  me 
for  thy  master,  and  presume  not  to  juggle  with  thy 
king." 

"  My  master  !  my  king  ! "  echoed  the  astrologer, — 
"  the  monarch  of  a  mole-hill  to  claim  sway  over  him  who 
possesses  the  talismans  of  Solomon!  Farewell,  Aben 
Habuz;  reign  over  thy  petty  kingdom,  and  revel  in  thy 
paradise  of  fools ;  for  me,  I  will  laugh  at  thee  in  my 
philosophic  retirement." 

So  saying,  he  seized  the  bridle  of  the  palfrey,  smote 
the  earth  with  his  staff,  and  sank  with  the  Gothic  prin- 
cess through  the  centre  of  the  barbican.  The  earth 
closed  over  them,  and  no  trace  remained  of  the  opening 
by  which  they  had  descended. 

Aben  Habuz  was  struck  dumb  for  a  time  with  aston- 
ishment. Recovering  himself,  he  ordered  a  thousand 
workmen  to  dig,  with  pickaxe  and  spade,  into  the  ground 
where  the  astrologer  had  disappeared.  They  digged  and 
digged,  but  in  vain  ;  the  flinty  bosom  of  the  hill  resisted 
their  implements ;  or  if  they  did  penetrate  a  little  way, 
the  earth  filled  in  again  as  fast  as  they  threw  it  out. 
Aben  Habuz  sought  the  mouth  of  the  cavern  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  leading  to  the  subterranean  palace  of  the 
astrologer;  but  it  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  Where 
once  had  been  an  entrance,  was  now  a  solid  surface  of 

primeval  rock.     With  the  disappearance  of  Ibrahim  Ebn 
15 


226  THE  ALHAMBBA, 

Abu  Ayub  ceased  the  benefit  of  his  talismans.  The 
bronze  horseman  remained  fixed,  with  his  face  turned 
toward  the  hill,  and  his  spear  pointed  to  the  spot  where 
the  astrologer  had  descended,  as  if  there  still  lurked  the 
deadliest  foe  of  Aben  Habuz. 

From  time  to  time  the  sound  of  music,  and  the  tones 
of  a  female  voice,  could  be  faintly  heard  from  the  bosom 
of  the  hill ;  and  a  peasant  one  day  brought  word  to  the 
king,  that  in  the  preceding  night  he  had  found  a  fissure 
in  the  rock,  by  which  he  had  crept  in,  until  he  looked 
down  into  a  subterranean  hall,  in  which  sat  the  astrolo- 
ger, on  a  magnificent  divan,  slumbering  and  nodding  to 
the  silver  lyre  of  the  princess,  which  seemed  to  hold  a 
magic  swaj^  over  his  senses. 

Aben  Habuz  sought  the  fissure  in  the  rock,  but  it  was 
again  closed.  He  renewed  the  attempt  to  unearth  his 
rival,  but  all  in  vain.  The  spell  of  the  hand  and  key  was 
too  potent  to  be  counteracted  by  human  power.  As  to 
the  summit  of  the  mountain,  the  site  of  the  promised 
palace  and  garden,  it  remained  a  naked  waste  ;  either  the 
boasted  elysium  was  hidden  from  sight  by  enchantment, 
or  was  a  mere  fable  of  the  astrologer.  The  world  chari- 
tably supposed  the  latter,  and  some  used  to  call  the 
place  "  The  King's  Folly  "  ;  while  others  named  it  "  The 
Fool's  Paradise." 

To  add  to  the  chagrin  of  Aben  Habuz,  the  neighbors 
whom  he  had  defied  and  taunted,  and  cut  up  at  his  lei- 
sure while  master  of  the  talismanic  horseman,  finding  him 


MA  GIG  8L  UMBEB8.  227 

no  longer  protected  by  magic  spell,  made  inroads  into 
his  territories  from  all  sides,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
life  of  the  most  pacific  of  monarchs  was  a  tissue  of  tur- 
moils. 

At  length  Aben  Habuz  died,  and  was  buried.  Ages 
have  since  rolled  away.  The  Alhambra  has  been  built 
on  the  eventful  mountain,  and  in  some  measure  realizes 
the  fabled  delights  of  the  garden  of  Irem.  The  spell- 
bound gateway  still  exists  entire,  protected  no  doubt  by 
the  mystic  hand  and  key,  and  now  forms  the  Gate  of 
Justice,  the  grand  entrance  to  the  fortress.  Under  that 
gateway,  it  is  said,  the  old  astrologer  remains  in  his 
subterranean  hall,  nodding  on  his  divan,  lulled  by  the 
silver  lyre  of  the  princess. 

The  old  invalid  sentinels  who  mount  guard  at  the  gate 
hear  the  strains  occasionally  in  the  summer  nights ;  and, 
yielding  to  their  soporific  power,  doze  quietly  at  their 
posts.  Nay,  so  drowsy  an  influence  pervades  the  place, 
that  even  those  who  watch  by  day  may  generally  be  seen 
nodding  on  the  stone  benches  of  the  barbican,  or  sleep- 
ing under  the  neighboring  trees ;  so  that  in  fact  it  is  the 
drowsiest  military  post  in  all  Christendom.  All  this,  say 
the  ancient  legends,  will  endure  from  age  to  age.  The 
princess  will  remain  captive  to  the  astrologer ;  and  the 
astrologer,  bound  up  in  magic  slumber  by  the  princess, 
until  the  last  day,  unless  the  mystic  hand  shall  grasp  the 
fated  key,  and  dispel  the  whole  charm  of  this  enchanted 
mountain. 


228  THE  ALHAMBUA, 

NOTE  TO  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER. 

Al  Makkari,  in  his  iiistory  of  the  Mohammedan  Dynasties  in  Spain, 
cites  from  another  Arabian  writer  an  account  of  a  talismanic  effigy 
somewhat  similar  to  the  one  in  the  foregoing  legend. 

In  Cadiz,  says  he,  there  formerly  stood  a  square  tower  upwards  of  one 
hundred  cubits  high,  built  of  huge  blocks  of  stone,  fastened  together  with 
clamps  of  brass.  On  the  top  was  the  figure  of  a  man,  holding  a  staff  in 
his  right  hand,  his  face  turned  to  the  Atlantic,  and  pointing  with  the 
forefinger  of  his  left  hand  to  the  Straits  of  G-ibraltar.  It  was  said  to  have 
been  set  up  in  ancient  times  by  the  Gothic  kings  of  Andalus,  as  a  beacon 
or  guide  to  navigators.  The  Moslems  of  Barbary  and  Andalus  considered 
it  a  talisman  which  exercised  a  spell  over  the  seas.  Under  its  guidance, 
swarms  of  piratical  people  of  a  nation  called  Majus,  appeared  on  the 
coast  in  large  vessels  with  a  square  sail  in  the  bow,  and  another  in  the 
stern.  They  came  every  six  or  seven  years  ;  captured  everything  they 
met  with  on  the  sea ; — guided  by  the  statue,  they  passed  through  the 
Straits  into  the  Mediterranean,  landed  on  the  coasts  of  Andalus,  laid 
everything  waste  with  fire  and  sword ;  and  sometimes  carried  their  depre- 
dations on  the  opposite  coasts  even  as  far  as  Syria. 

At  length  it  came  to  pass  in  the  time  of  the  civil  wars,  a  Moslem 
Admiral  who  had  taken  possession  of  Cadiz,  hearing  that  the  statue  on 
top  of  the  tower  was  of  pure  gold,  had  it  lowered  to  the  ground  and 
broken  to  pieces  :  when  it  proved  to  be  of  gilded  brass.  With  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  idol,  the  spell  over  the  sea  was  at  an  end.  From  that  time 
forward  nothing  more  was  seen  of  the  piratical  people  of  the  ocean,  ex- 
cepting that  two  of  their  barks  were  wrecked  on  the  coast,  one  at  Marsu-1- 
Majus  (the  port  of  the  Majus),  the  other  close  to  the  promontory  of  AL 
Aghan. 

The  maritime  invaders  above  mentioned  by  Al  Makkari  must  have 
been  the  Northmen, 


VISITORS    TO    THE    ALHAMBRA, 

OR  nearly  tliree  montlis  had  I  enjoyed  undis- 
turbed my  dream  of  sovereignty  in  the  Alham- 
bra, — a  longer  term  of  quiet  than  had  been  the 
lot  of  many  of  my  predecessors.  During  this  lapse  of 
time  the  progress  of  the  season  had  wrought  the  usual 
change.  On  my  arrival  I  had  found  everything  in  the 
freshness  of  May  ;  the  foliage  of  the  trees  was  still  ten- 
der and  transparent ;  the  pomegranate  had  not  yet  shed 
its  brilliant  crimson  blossoms  ;  the  orchards  of  the  Xenil 
and  the  Darro  were  in  full  bloom  ;  the  rocks  were  hung 
with  wild-flowers,  and  Granada  seemed  completely  sur- 
rounded by  a  wilderness  of  roses  ;  among  which  innu- 
merable nightingales  sang,  not  merely  in  the  night,  but 
all  day  long. 

Now  the  advance  of  summer  had  withered  the  rose  and 
silenced  the  nightingale,  and  the  distant  country  began 
to  look  parched  and  sunburnt ;  though  a  perennial  ver- 
dure reigned  immediately  round  the  city  and  in  the  deep 
narrow  valleys  at  the  foot  of  the  snow-capped  mountains. 
The  Alhambra  possesses  retreats  graduated  to  the  heat 
of  the  weather,  among  which  the  most  peculiar  is  the  al- 


230  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

most  subterranean  apartment  of  the  baths.  This  still  re- 
tains its  ancient  Oriental  character,  though  stamped  with 
the  touching  traces  of  decline.  At  the  entrance,  opening 
into  a  small  court  formerly  adorned  with  flowers,  is  a 
hall,  moderate  in  size,  but  light  and  graceful  in  architec- 
ture. It  is  overlooked  by  a  small  gallery  supported  by 
marble  pillars  and  moresco  arches.  An  alabaster  foun- 
tain in  the  centre  of  the  pavement  still  throws  up  a  jet 
of  water  to  cool  the  place.  On  each  side  are  deep  alcoves 
with  raised  platforms,  where  the  bathers,  after  their  ab- 
lutions, reclined  on  cushions,  soothed  to  voluptuous  re- 
pose by  the  fragrance  of  the  perfumed  air  and  the  notes 
of  soft  music  from  the  gallery.  Beyond  this  hall  are  the 
interior  chambers,  still  more  retired ;  the  sanctum  sanc- 
torum of  female  privacy ;  for  here  the  beauties  of  the 
Harem  indulged  in  the  luxury  of  the  baths.  A  soft  mys- 
terious light  reigns  through  the  place,  admitted  through 
small  apertures  (lumbreras)  in  the  vaulted  ceiling.  The 
traces  of  ancient  elegance  are  still  to  be  seen ;  and  the 
alabaster  baths  in  which  the  sultanas  once  reclined.  The 
prevailing  obscurity  and  silence  have  made  these  vaults 
a  favorite  resort  of  bats,  who  nestle  during  the  day  in  the 
dark  nooks  and  corners,  and  on  being  disturbed,  flit  mys- 
teriously about  the  twilight  chambers,  heightening,  in  an 
indescribable  degree,  their  air  of  desertion  and  decay. 

In  this  cool  and  elegant,  though  dilapidated  retreat, 
which  had  the  freshness  and  seclusion  of  a  grotto,  I 
passed  the  sultry  hours  of  the  day  as  summer  advanced, 


A  BIVAL  POTENTATE.  231 

emerging  towards  sunset ;  and  bathing,  or  rather  swim- 
ming, at  night  in  the  great  reservoir  of  the  main  court. 
In  this  way  I  was  enabled  in  a  measure  to  counteract  the 
relaxing  and  enervating  influence  of  the  climate. 

My  dream  of  absolute  sovereignty,  however,  came  at 
length  to  an  end.  I  was  roused  one  morning  by  the 
report  of  fire-arms,  which  reverberated  among  the  towers 
as  if  the  castle  had  been  taken  by  surprise.  On  sallying 
forth,  I  found  an  old  cavalier  with  a  number  of  domestics 
in  possession  of  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors.  He  was  an 
ancient  count  who  had  come  up  from  his  palace  in  Gra- 
nada to  pass  a  short  time  in  the  Alhambra  for  the  benefit 
of  purer  air ;  and  who,  being  a  veteran  and  inveterate 
sportsman,  was  endeavoring  to  get  an  appetite  for  his 
breakfast  by  shooting  at  swallows  from  the  balconies. 
It  was  a  harmless  amusement ;  for  though,  by  the  alert- 
ness of  his  attendants  in  loading  his  pieces,  he  was  en- 
abled to  keep  up  a  brisk  fire,  I  could  not  accuse  him  of 
the  death  of  a  single  swallow.  Nay,  the  birds  them- 
selves seemed  to  enjoy  the  sport,  and  to  deride  his  want 
of  skill,  skimming  in  circles  close  to  the  balconies,  and 
twittering  as  they  darted  by. 

The  arrival  of  this  old  gentleman  changed  essentially 
the  aspect  of  affairs,  but  caused  no  jealousy  nor  collision. 
We  tacitly  shared  the  empire  between  us,  like  the  last 
kings  of  Granada,  excepting  that  we  maintained  a  most 
amicable  alliance.  He  reigned  absolute  over  the  court 
of  the  Lions  and  its  adjacent  halls,  while  I  maintained 


232  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

peaceful  possession  of  the  regions  of  the  baths  and  the 
little  garden  of  Lindaraxa.  We  took  our  meals  together 
under  the  arcades  of  the  court,  where  the  fountains 
cooled  the  air,  and  bubbling  rills  ran  along  the  channels 
of  the  marble  pavement. 

In  the  evenings  a  domestic  circle  would  gather  about 
the  worthy  old  cavalier.  The  countess,  his  wife  by  a 
second  marriage,  would  come  up  from  the  city  accom- 
panied by  her  step-daughter  Carmen,  an  only  child,  a 
charming  little  being,  still  in  her  girlish  years.  Then 
there  were  always  some  of  his  official  dependants,  his 
chaplain,  his  lawyer,  his  secretary,  his  steward,  and 
other  officers  and  agents  of  his  extensive  possessions, 
who  brought  him  up  the  news  or  gossip  of  the  city,  and 
formed  his  evening  party  of  tresillo  or  ombre.  Thus  he 
held  a  kind  of  domestic  court,  where  each  one  paid  him 
deference,  and  sought  to  contribute  to  his  amusement, 
without,  however,  any  appearance  of  servility,  or  any  sac- 
rifice of-  self-respect.  In  fact,  nothing  of  the  kind  was 
exacted  by  the  demeanor  of  the  Count ;  for  whatever  may 
be  said  of  Spanish  pride,  it  rarely  chills  or  constrains 
the  intercourse  of  social  or  domestic  life.  Among  no 
people  are  the  relations  between  kindred  more  unre- 
served and  cordial,  or  between  superior  and  dependant 
more  free  from  haughtiness  on  the  one  side,  and  obse- 
quiousness on  the  other.  In  these  respects  there  still 
Vemains  in  Spanish  life,  especially  in  the  provinces,  much 
of  the  vaunted  simplicity  of  the  olden  time. 


LA  NINA.  233 

The  most  interesting  member  of  this  family  group, 
in  mj  eyes,  was  the  daughter  of  the  count,  the  lovel;y 
little  Carmen.  She  was  but  about  sixteen  years  of  age, 
and  appeared  to  be  considered  a  mere  child,  though  the 
idol  of  the  family,  going  generally  by  the  childlike  but 
endearing  appellation  of  la  Nina.  Her  form  had  not  yet 
attained  full  maturity  and  development,  but  possessed 
already  the  exquisite  symmetry  and  pliant  grace  so  prev- 
alent in  this  country.  Her  blue  eyes,  fair  complexion, 
and  light  hair,  were  unusual  in  Andalusia,  and  gave  a 
mildness  and  gentleness  to  her  demeanor  in  contrast  to 
the  usual  fire  of  Spanish  beauty,  but  in  unison  with  the 
guileless  and  confiding  innocence  of  her  manners.  She 
had  at  the  same  time  the  innate  aptness  and  versatility  of 
her  fascinating  countrywomen.  Whatever  she  undertook 
to  do  she  did  well  and  apparently  without  effort.  She 
sang,  played  the  guitar  and  other  instruments,  and 
danced  the  picturesque  dances  of  her  country  to  admira- 
tion, but  never  seemed  to  seek  admiration.  Everything 
was  spontaneous,  prompted  by  her  own  gay  spirits  and 
happy  temper. 

The  presence  of  this  fascinating  little  being  spread 
a  new  charm  about  the  Alhambra,  and  seemed  to  be  in 
unison  with  the  place.  While  the  count  and  countess, 
with  the  chaplain  or  secretary,  were  playing  their  game 
of  tresillo  under  the  vestibule  of  the  court  of  Lions,  she, 
attended  by  Dolores,  who  acted  as  her  maid  of  honor, 
would  sit  by  one  of  the  fountains,  and  accompanying  her- 


234  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

self  on  the  guitar,  would  sing  some  of  those  popular  ro- 
mances which  abound  in  Spain,  or,  what  was  still  more 
to  my  taste,  some  traditional  ballad  about  the  Moors. 

Never  shall  I  think  of  the  Alhambra  without  remem- 
bering this  lovely  little  being,  sporting  in  happy  and  in- 
nocent girlhood  in  its  marble  halls,  dancing  to  the  sound 
of  the  Moorish  castanets,  or  mingling  the  silver  warbling 
of  her  voice  with  the  music  of  its  fountains. 


EELICS    AND    GENEALOGIES. 

F  I  liad  been  pleased  and  interested  by  the 
count  and  his  family,  as  furnishing  a  picture 
J  of  a  Spanish  domestic  life,  I  was  still  more  so 
when  apprised  of  historical  circumstances  which  linked 
them  with  the  heroic  times  of  Granada.  In  fact,  in  this 
worthy  old  cayalier,  so  totally  unwarlike,  or  whose  deeds 
in  arms  extended,  at  most,  to  a  war  on  swallows  and 
martlets,  I  discovered  a  lineal  descendant  and  actual  re- 
presentative of  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova,  "  The  Grand  Cap- 
tain," who  won  some  of  his  brightest  laurels  before  the 
walls  of  Granada,  and  was  one  of  the  cavaliers  commis- 
sioned by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  to  negotiate  the  terms 
of  surrender ;  nay,  more,  the  count  was  entitled,  did  he 
choose  it,  to  claim  remote  affinity  with  some  of  the 
ancient  Moorish  princes,  through  a  scion  of  his  house, 
Don  Pedro  Yenegas,  surnamed  the  Tornadizo ;  and  by 
the  same  token  his  daughter,  the  fascinating  little  Car- 
men, might  claim  to  be  rightful  representative  of  the 
Princess  Cetimerien  or  the  beautiful  Lindaraxa.^ 

*  Lest  this  should  be  deemed  a  mere  stretch  of  fancy,  the  reader  is  rC' 
ferred  to  the  following  genealogy,  derived  by  the  historian  Alcantara, 

2S5 


236  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

Understanding  from  the  count  that  he  had  some  curi- 
ous relics  of  the  Conquest,  preserved  in  his  family  ar- 
chives, I  accompanied  him  early  one  morning  down  to  his 
palace  in  Granada  to  examine  them.  The  most  import- 
ant of  these  relics  was  the  sword  of  the  Grand  Captain ; 
a  weapon  destitute  of  all  ostentatious  ornament,  as  the 
weapons  of  great  generals  are  apt  to  be,  with  a  plain  hilt 
of  ivory  and  a  broad  thin  blade.  It  might  furnish  a  com- 
ment on  hereditary  honors,  to  see  the  sword  of  the  grand 
captain  legitimately  declined  into  such  feeble  hands. 

The  other  relics  of  the  Conquest  were  a  number  of 
espingardas  or  muskets  of  unwieldy  size  and  ponderous 
weight,  worthy  to  rank  with  those  enormous  two-edged 
swords  preserved  in  old  armories,  which  look  like  relics 
from  the  days  of  the  giants. 

Besides  other  hereditary  honors,  I  found  the  old  count 
was  Alferez  mayor,  or  grand  standard-bearer,  in  which 
capacity  he  was  entitled  to  bear  the  ancient  standard  of 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  on  certain  high  and  solemn  oc- 

f rom  an  Arabian  manuscript,  on  parchment  in  the  archives  of  the  Mar- 
quis of  Corvera.  It  is  a  specimen  of  the  curious  affinities  between  Chris- 
tians and  Moslems,  produced  by  capture  and  intermarriages,  during  the 
Moorish  wars.  From  Aben  Hud,  the  Moorish  king,  the  conqueror  of  the 
Almohades,  was  descended  in  right  line  Cid  Yahia  Abraham  Alnagar, 
prince  of  Almeria,  who  married  a  daughter  of  King  Bermejo.  They  had 
three  children,  commonly  called  the  Cetimerian  Princes.  1st.  Jusef  hen 
Alhamar,  who  for  a  time  usurped  the  throne  of  Granada.  2d.  The 
Prince  Nasar,  who  married  the  celebrated  Lindaraxa.  3d.  The  Princess 
Cetimerien,  who  married  Don  Pedro  Yenegas,  captured  by  the  Moors  in 
his  boyhood,  a  younger  son  of  the  Rouse  of  Luque,  of  which  house  the 
old  count  was  the  present  head. 


COSTUMES  OF  THE  MOORS  OF  AND  ALUS.         237 

casions,  and  to  wave  it  over  their  tombs.  I  was  sliown 
also  the  caparisons  of  velvet,  sumptuously  embroidered 
with  gold  and  silver,  for  six  horses,  with  which  he  ap- 
peared in  state  when  a  new  sovereign  was  to  be  pro- 
claimed in  Granada  and  Seville  ;  the  count  mounting  one 
of  the  horses,  and  the  other  ^yq  being  led  by  lackeys  in 
rich  liveries. 

I  had  hoped  to  find  among  the  relics  and  antiquities  of 
the  count's  palace  some  specimens  of  the  armor  and 
weapons  of  the  Moors  of  Granada,  such  as  I  had  heard 
were  preserved  as  trophies  by  the  descendants  of  the 
Conquerors ;  but  in  this  I  was  disappointed.  I  was  the 
more  curious  in  this  particular,  because  an  erroneous 
idea  has  been  entertained  by  many,  as  to  the  costumes 
of  the  Moors  of  Spain ;  supposing  them  to  be  of  the  usual 
Oriental  type.  On  the  contrary,  we  have  it  on  the  au- 
thority of  their  own  writers,  that  they  adopted  in  many 
respects  the  fashions  of  the  Christians.  The  turban, 
especially,  so  identified  in  idea  with  the  Moslem,  was 
generally  abandoned,  except  in  the  western  provinces, 
where  it  continued  in  use  among  people  of  rank  and 
wealth,  and  those  holding  places  under  government.  A 
woollen  cap,  red  or  green,  was  commonly  worn  as  a  sub- 
stitute ;  probably  the  same  kind  originating  in  Barbary, 
and  known  by  the  name  of  Tunis  or  Fez,  which  at  the 
present  day  is  worn  throughout  the  East,  though  gen- 
erally under  the  turban.  The  Jews  were  obliged  to  wear 
them  of  a  yellow  color. 


238  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

In  Murcia,  Yalencia,  and  other  eastern  provinces,  men 
of  the  highest  rank  might  be  seen  in  public  bareheaded. 
The  warrior  king,  Aben  Hud,  never  wore  a  turban,  nei- 
ther did  his  rival  and  competitor  Al  Hamar,  the  founder 
of  the  Alhambra.  A  short  cloak  called  Taylasan,  sim- 
ilar to  that  seen  in  Spain  in  the  sixteenth  and  seven- 
teenth centuries,  was  worn  by  all  ranks.  It  had  a  hood 
or  cape  which  people  of  condition  sometimes  drew  over 
the  head ;  but  the  lower  class  never. 

A  Moslem  cavalier  in  the  thirteenth  century,  as  de- 
scribed by  Ibnu  Said,  was  equipped  for  war  very  much 
in  the  Christian  style.  Over  a  complete  suit  of  mail  he 
wore  a  short  scarlet  tunic.  His  helmet  was  of  polished 
steel ;  a  shield  was  slung  at  his  back  ;  he  wielded  a  huge 
spear  with  a  broad  point,  sometimes  a  double  point. 
His  saddle  was  cumbrous,  projecting  very  much  in  front 
and  in  rear,  and  he  rode  with  a  banner  fluttering  behind 
him. 

In  the  time  of  Al  Khattib  of  Granada,  who  wrote  in 
the  fourteenth  century,  the  Moslems  of  Andalus  had  re- 
sumed the  Oriental  costumes,  and  were  again  clad  and 
armed  in  Arabic  fashion :  with  light  helmet,  thin  but 
well-tempered  cuirass,  long  slender  lance,  commonly  of 
reed,  Arabian  saddle  and  leathern  buckler,  made  of 
double  folds  of  the  skin  of  the  antelope.  A  wonderful 
luxury  prevailed  at  that  time  in  the  arms  and  equip- 
ments of  the  Granadian  cavaliers.  Their  armor  was  in- 
laid with  gold  and  silver.     Their  cimeters  were  of  the 


COSTUMES  OF  THE  MOORS  OF  AND  ALUS.         239 

keenest  Damascus  blades,  with  sheaths  richly  wrought 
and  enamelled,  and  belts  of  golden  filigree  studded  with 
gems.  Their  daggers  of  Fez  had  jewelled  hilts,  and  their 
lances  were  set  off  with  gay  b  anderoles.  Their  horses 
were  caparisoned  in  correspondent  style,  with  velvet  and 
embroidery. 

All  this  minute  description,  given  by  a  contemporary, 
and  an  author  of  distinction,  verifies  those  gallant  pic- 
tures in  the  old  Morisco  Spanish  ballads  which  have 
sometimes  been  deemed  apocryphal,  and  give  a  vivid 
idea  of  the  brilliant  appearance  of  the  chivalry  of  Gra- 
nada, when  marshalled  forth  in  warlike  array,  or  when 
celebrating  the  chivalrous  fetes  of  the  Vivarrambla. 


THE    GENEEALIFE. 

IGH  above  the  Alhambra,  on  tlie  breast  of 
the  mountain,  amidst  embowered  gardens  and 
stately  terraces,  rise  the  lofty  towers  and  white 
walls  of  the  Generalife  ;  a  fairy  palace,  full  of  storied 
recollections.  Here  are  still  to  be  seen  the  famous  cy- 
presses of  enormous  size  which  flourished  in  the  time  of 
the  Moors,  and  which  tradition  has  connected  with  the 
fabulous  story  of  Boabdil  and  his  sultana. 

Here  are  preserved  the  portraits  of  many  who  figured 
in  the  romantic  drama  of  the  Conquest.  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella,  Ponce  de  Leon,  the  gallant  Marquis  of  Cadiz, 
and  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega,  who  slew  in  desperate  fight 
Tarfe  the  Moor,  a  champion  of  Herculean  strength. 
Here  too  hangs  a  portrait  which  has  long  passed  for 
that  of  the  unfortunate  Boabdil,  but  which  is  said  to  be 
that  of  Aben  Hud,  the  Moorish  king  from  whom  de- 
scended the  princes  of  Almeria.  From  one  of  these 
princes,  who  joined  the  standard  of  Ferdinand  and  Isa- 
bella towards  the  close  of  the  Conquest,  and  was  chris- 
tianized by  the  name  of  Don  Pedro  de  Granada  Yenegas, 
was   descended   the   present   proprietor   of    the   palace, 

340 


THE  GENEBALTFK  241 

the  Marquis  of  Campotejar.  Tlie  proprietor,  however, 
dwells  in  a  foreign  land,  and  the  palace  has  no  longer  a 
princely  inhabitant. 

Yet  here  is  everything  to  delight  a  southern  voluptu- 
ary :  fruits,  flowers,  fragrance,  green  arbors  and  myrtle 
hedges,  delicate  air  and  gushing  waters.  Here  I  had  an 
opportunity  of  witnessing  those  scenes  which  painters 
are  fond  of  depicting  about  southern  palaces  and  gar- 
dens. It  was  the  saint's  day  of  the  count's  daughter, 
and  she  had  brought  up  several  of  her  youthful  com- 
panions from  Granada,  to  sport  away  a  long  summer's 
day  among  the  breezy  halls  and  bowers  of  the  Moorish 
palaces.  A  visit  to  the  Generalife  was  the  morning's 
entertainment.  Here  some  of  the  gay  company  dispersed 
itseK  in  groups  about  the  green  walks,  the  bright  foun- 
tains, the  flights  of  Italian  steps,  the  noble  terraces  and 
marble  balustrades.  Others,  among  whom  I  was  one,  took 
their  seats  in  an  open  gallery  or  colonnade  command- 
ing a  vast  prospect ;  with  the  Alhambra,  the  city,  and  the 
Vega,  far  below,  and  the  distant  horizon  of  mountains — 
a  dreamy  world,  all  glimmering  to  the  eye  in  summer 
sunshine.  While  thus  seated,  the  all-pervading  tinkling 
of  the  guitar  and  click  of  the  castanets  came  stealing  up 
from  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  and  half-way  down  the 
mountain  we  descried  a  festive  party  under  the  trees, 
enjoying  themselves  in  true  Andalusian  style ;  some 
lying  on  the  grass,  others  dancing  to  the  music. 

All  these  sights  and  sounds,  together  with  the  princely 
16 


24^  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

seclusion  of  tlie  place,  the  sweet  quiet  which  prevailed 
around,  and  the  delicious  serenity  of  the  weather,  had  a 
witching  effect  upon  the  mind,  and  drew  from  some  of 
the  company,  versed  in  local  story,  several  of  the  popu- 
lar fancies  and  traditions  connected  with  this  old  Moor- 
ish palace ;  they  were  "  such  stuff  as  dreams  are  made 
of,"  but  out  of  them  I  have  shaped  the  following  legend, 
which  I  hope  may  have  the  good  fortune  to  prove  ac- 
ceptable to  the  reader. 


LEGEND  OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL 


ORs 

THE  PILGEIM  OF  LOVE. 


^HEEE  was  once  a  Moorisk  king  of  Granada, 
who  had  but  one  son,  whom  he  named  Ahmed, 
to  which  his  courtiers  added  the  surname  of 
al  Kamel,  or  the  Perfect,  from  the  indubitable  signs  of 
superexcellence  which  they  perceived  in  him  in  his  very 
infancy.  The  astrologers  countenanced  them  in  their 
foresight,  predicting  everything  in  his  favor  that  could 
make  a  perfect  prince  and  a  prosperous  sovereign.  One 
cloud  only  rested  upon  his  destiny,  and  even  that  was  of 
a  roseate  hue  :  he  would  be  of  an  amorous  temperament, 
and  run  great  perils  from  the  tender  passion.  If,  how- 
ever, he  could  be  kept  from  the  allurements  of  love  until 
of  mature  age,  these  dangers  would  be  averted,  and  his 
life  thereafter  be  one  uninterrupted  course  of  felicity. 

To  prevent  all  danger  of  the  kind,  the  king  wisely  de- 
termined to  rear  the  prince  in  a  seclusion  where  he 
should  never  see  a  female  face,  nor  hear  even  the  name 

of  love.     For  this  purpose  he  built  a  beautiful  palace  on 

242 


244  TEE  ALHAMBUA. 

the  brow  of  tlie  liill  above  the  Alhambra,  in  the  midst  of 
delightful  gardens,  but  surrounded  by  lofty  walls,  being, 
in  fact,  the  same  palace  knowi  .ji4j  tho  present  day  by  the 
name  of  the  Generalife.  In  tbis  palace  the  youthful 
prince  was  shut  up,  and  intrusteu  to  the  guardianship 
and  instruction  of  Eben  Bonabben,  one  of  the  wisest  and 
dryest  of  Arabian  sages,  who  had  passed  the  greatest 
part  of  his  life  in  Egypt,  studying  hieroglyphics,  and 
making  researches  among  the  tombs  and  pyramids,  and 
who  saw  more  charms  in  an  Egyptian  mummy  than  in 
the  most  tempting  of  living  beauties.  The  sage  was 
ordered  to  instruct  the  prince  in  all  kinds  of  knowledge 
but  one, — he  was  to  be  kept  utterly  ignorant  of  love. 
"Use  every  precaution  for  the  purpose  you  may  think 
proper,"  said  the  king,  "but  remember,  O  Eben  Bonab- 
ben, if  my  son  learns  aught  of  that  forbidden  knowledge 
while  under  your  care,  your  head  shall  answer  for  it." 
A  withered  smile  came  over  the  dry  visage  of  the  wise 
Bonabben  at  the  menace.  "  Let  your  majesty's  heart  be 
as  easy  about  your  son,  as  mine  is  about  my  head  :  am  I 
a  man  likely  to  give  lessons  in  the  idle  passion  ?  " 

Under  the  vigilant  care  of  the  philosopher,  the  prince 
grew  up  in  the  seclusion  of  the  palace  and  its  gardens. 
He  had  black  slaves  to  attend  upon  him — hideous  mutes 
who  knew  nothing  of  love,  or  if  they  did,  had  not  words 
to  communicate  it.  His  mental  endowments  were  the 
peculiar  care  of  Eben  Bonabben,  who  sought  to  initiate 
him  into  the  abstruse  lore  of  Egypt;  but  in   this   the 


THE  DISCOVERY  OF  A  HEART.  245 

prince  made  little  progress,  and  it  was  soon  evident  tliat 
lie  had  no  turn  for  philosophy. 

He  was,  however,  amazingly  ductile  for  a  youthful 
prince,  ready  to  follow  any  advice,  and  always  guided 
by  the  last  counsellor.  He  suppressed  his  yawns,  and 
listened  patiently  to  the  long  and  learned  discourses  of 
Eben  Bonabben,  from  which  he  imbibed  a  smattering  of 
various  kinds  of  knowledge,  and  thus  happily  attained 
his  twentieth  year,  a  miracle  of  princely  wisdom — but 
totally  ignorant  of  love. 

About  this  time,  however,  a  change  came  over  the 
conduct  of  the  prince.  He  completely  abandoned  his 
studies,  and  took  to  strolling  about  the  gardens,  and 
musing  by  the  side  of  the  fountains.  He  had  been 
taught  a  little  music  among  his  various  accomplish- 
ments ;  it  now  engrossed  a  great  part  of  his  time,  and  a 
turn  for  poetry  became  apparent.  The  sage  Eben  Bon- 
abben took  the  alarm,  and  endeavored  to  work  these  idle 
humors  out  of  him  by  a  severe  course  of  algebra;  but 
the  prince  turned  from  it  with  distaste.  "  I  cannot  en- 
dure algebra,"  said  he  ;  "  it  is  an  abomination  to  me.  I 
want  something  that  speaks  more  to  the  heart." 

The  sage  Eben  Bonabben  shook  his  dry  head  at  the 
words.  "  Here  is  an  end  to  philosophy,"  thought  he. 
"  The  prince  has  discovered  he  has  a  heart !  "  He  now 
kept  anxious  watch  upon  his  pupil,  and  saw  that  the 
latent  tenderness  of  his  nature  was  in  activity,  and  only 
wanted  an  object.     He  wandered  about  the  gardens  of 


246  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

tlie  Generalife  in  an  intoxication  of  feelings  of  wMcli  ha 
knew  not  the  cause.  Sometimes  he  would  sit  plunged  in 
a  delicious  reverie  ;  then  he  would  seize  his  lute  and 
draw  from  it  the  most  touching  notes,  and  then  throw  it 
aside,  and  break  forth  into  sighs  and  ejaculations. 

By  degrees  this  loving  disposition  began  to  extend  to 
inanimate  objects ;  he  had  his  favorite  flowers,  which  he 
cherished  with  tender  assiduity ;  then  he  became  at- 
tached to  various  trees,  and  there  was  one  in  particular, 
of  a  graceful  form  and  drooping  foliage,  on  which  he 
lavished  his  amorous  devotion,  carving  his  name  on  its 
bark,  hanging  garlands  on  its  branches,  and  singing 
couplets  in  its  praise,  to  the  accompaniment  of  his  lute. 

Eben  Bonabben  was  alarmed  at  this  excited  state  of 
his  pupil.  He  saw  him  on  the  very  brink  of  forbidden 
knowledge — the  least  hint  might  reveal  to  him  the  fatal 
secret.  Trembling  for  the  safety  of  the  prince  and  the 
security  of  his  own  head,  he  hastened  to  draw  him  from 
the  seductions  of  the  garden,  and  shut  him  up  in  the 
highest  tower  of  the  Generalife.  It  contained  beautiful 
apartments,  and  commanded  an  almost  boundless  pros- 
pect, but  was  elevated  far  above  that  atmosphere  of 
sweets  and  those  witching  bowers  so  dangerous  to  the 
feelings  of  the  too  susceptible  Ahmed. 

What  was  to  be  done,  however,  to  reconcile  him  to  thi^ 
restraint  and  to  beguile  the  tedious  hours  ?  He  had 
exhausted  almost  all  kinds  of  agreeable  knowledge  ;  and 
algebra  was   not  to   be   mentioned.     Fortunately  Eben 


THE  BIBBS  OF  THE  TO  WEB.  247 

Bona"bben  liad  been  instructed,  wlien  in  Egypt,  in  tlie 
language  of  birds  by  a  Jewish.  Rabbin,  wbo  bad  received 
it  in  lineal  transmission  from  Solomon  tbe  Wise,  who 
bad  been  taught  it  by  the  queen  of  Sheba.  At  the  very 
mention  of  such  a  study,  the  eyes  of  the  prince  sparkled 
with  animation,  and  he  applied  bimself  to  it  with  such 
avidity,  tbat  be  soon  became  as  great  an  adept  as  bis 
master. 

The  tower  of  the  Generalife  was  no  longer  a  solitude  ; 
he  had  companions  at  hand  with  whom  he  could  con- 
verse. The  first  acquaintance  he  formed  was  with  a 
hawk,  who  built  his  nest  in  a  crevice  of  the  lofty  battle- 
ments, whence  he  soared  far  and  wide  in  quest  of  prey. 
The  prince,  however,  found  little  to  like  or  esteem  in 
him.  He  was  a  mere  pirate  of  the  air,  swaggering  and 
boastful,  whose  talk  was  all  about  rapine  and  carnage, 
and  desperate  exploits. 

His  next  acquaintance  was  an  owl,  a  mighty  wise-look- 
ing bird,  with  a  huge  head  and  staring  eyes,  who  sat 
blinking  and  goggling  all  day  in  a  hole  in  the  wall,  but 
roamed  forth  at  night.  He  had  great  pretensions  to  wis- 
dom, talked  something  of  astrology  and  the  moon,  and 
hinted  at  the  dark  sciences ;  he  was  grievously  given  to 
metaphysics,  and  the  prince  found  his  prosings  even 
more  ponderous  than  those  of  the  sage  Eben  Bonabben. 

Then  there  was  a  bat,  that  hung  all  day  by  his  heels 
in  the  dark  corner  of  a  vault,  but  sallied  out  in  slipshod 
style  at  twilight.     He,  however,  had  but  twilight  ideas 


248  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

on  all  subjects,  derided  things  of  which  he  had  taken  bnt 
an  imperfect  view,  and  seemed  to  take  delight  in  nothing. 

Besides  these  there  was  a  swallow,  with  whom  the 
prince  was  at  first  much  taken.  He  was  a  smart  talker, 
but  restless,  bustling,  and  forever  on  the  wing ;  seldom 
remaining  long  enough  for  any  continued  conversation. 
He  turned  out  in  the  end  to  be  a  mere  smatterer,  who 
did  but  skim  over  the  surface  of  things,  pretending  to 
know  everything,  but  knowing  nothing  thoroughly. 

These  were  the  only  feathered  associates  with  whom 
the  prince  had  any  opportunity  of  exercising  his  newly 
acquired  language  ;  the  tower  was  too  high  for  any  other 
birds  to  frequent  it.  He  soon  grew  weary  of  his  new 
acquaintances,  whose  conversation  spoke  so  little  to  the 
head  and  nothing  to  the  heart,  and  gradually  relapsed 
into  his  loneliness.  A  winter  passed  away,  spring  opened 
with  all  its  bloom  and  verdure  and  breathing  sweetness, 
and  the  happy  time  arrived  for  birds  to  pair  and  build 
their  nests.  Suddenly,  as  it  were,  a  universal  burst  of 
song  and  melody  broke  forth  from  the  groves  and  gar- 
dens of  the  Generalife,  and  reached  the  prince  in  the 
solitude  of  his  tower.  From  every  side  he  heard  the 
same  universal  theme — ^love — love — love — chanted  forth, 
and  responded  to  it  in  every  variety  of  note  and  tone. 
The  prince  listened  in  silence  and  perplexity.  "What 
can  be  this  love,"  thought  he,  "  of  which  the  world  seems 
so  full,  and  of  which  I  know  nothing  ?  "  He  applied  for 
information  to  his  friend  the  hawk.     The  ruffian  bird  an* 


mqUIRT  AFTER  LOVE.  249 

swered  in  a  tone  of  scorn :  "  Ton  must  apply,"  said  he, 
"  to  the  vulgar  peaceable  birds  of  earth,  who  are  made 
for  the  prey  of  us  princes  of  the  air.  My  trade  is  war, 
and  fighting  my  delight.  I  am  a  warrior,  and  know 
nothing  of  this  thing  called  love." 

The  prince  turned  from  him  with  disgust,  and  sought 
the  owl  in  his  retreat.  "This  is  a  bird,"  said  he,  "of 
peaceful  habits,  and  may  be  able  to  solve  my  question." 
So  he  asked  the  owl  to  tell  him  what  was  this  love  about 
which  all  the  birds  in  the  groves  below  were  singing. 

Upon  this  the  owl  put  on  a  look  of  offended  dignity. 
"My  nights,"  said  he,  "are  taken  up  in  study  and  re- 
search, and  my  days  in  ruminating  in  my  cell  upon  all 
that  I  have  learnt.  As  to  these  singing  birds  of  whom 
you  talk,  I  never  listen  to  them — I  despise  them  and 
their  themes.  Allah  be  praised,  I  cannot  sing ;  I  am  a 
philosopher,  and  know  nothing  of  this  thing  called  love." 

The  prince  now  repaired  to  the  vault,  where  his  friend 
the  bat  was  hanging  by  the  heels,  and  propounded  the 
same  question.  The  bat  wrinkled  up  his  nose  into  a 
most  snappish  expression.  "  Why  do  you  disturb  me  in 
my  morning's  nap  with  such  an  idle  question  ?  "  said  he, 
peevishly.  "  I  only  fly  by  twilight,  when  all  birds  are 
asleep,  and  never  trouble  myself  with  their  concerns.  I 
am  neither  bird  nor  beast,  and  I  thank  heaven  for  it.  I 
have  found  out  the  villany  of  the  whole  of  them,  and 
hate  them  one  and  all.  In  a  word,  I  am  a  misanthrope 
- — and  know  nothing  of  this  thing  called  love," 


250  TEE  ALHAMBBA. 

As  a  last  resort,  the  prince  now  sought  the  swallow, 
and  stopped  him  just  as  he  was  circling  about  the 
summit  of  the  tower.  The  swallow,  as  usual,  was 
in  a  prodigious  hurry,  and  had  scarce  time  to  make 
a  reply.  "  Upon  my  word,"  said  he,  "I  have  so  much 
public  business  to  attend  to,  and  so  many  pursuits  to 
follow,  that  I  have  had  no  time  to  think  on  the  subject. 
I  have  every  day  a  thousand  visits  to  pay ;  a  thousand 
affairs  of  importance  to  examine  into,  that  leave  me 
not  a  moment  of  leisure  for  these  little  sing-song  mat- 
ters. In  a  word,  I  am  a  citizen  of  the  world — I  know 
nothing  of  this  thing  called  love."  So  saying,  the  swal- 
low dived  into  the  valley,  and  was  out  of  sight  in  a 
moment. 

The  prince  remained  disappointed  and  perplexed,  but 
with  his  curiosity  still  more  piqued  by  the  difficulty  of 
gratifying  it.  While  in  this  mood,  his  ancient  guardian 
entered  the  tower.  The  prince  advanced  eagerly  to  meet 
him.  "O  Eben  Bonabben,"  cried  he,  "thou  hast  re- 
vealed to  me  much  of  the  wisdom  of  the  earth  ;  but  there 
is  one  thing  of  which  I  remain  in  utter  ignorance,  and 
would  fain  be  informed." 

"  My  prince  has  but  to  make  the  inquiry,  and  every- 
thing within  the  limited  range  of  his  servant's  intellect  is 
at  his  command." 

"  Tell  me  then,  O  most  profound  of  sages,  what  is  the 
nature  of  this  thing  called  love  ?  " 

Eben  Bonabben  was  struck  as  with  a  thunderbolt.    He 


LOVE  DEFINED,  251 

trembled  and  turned  pale,  and  felt  as  if  liis  head  sat 
but  loosely  on  liis  shoulders. 

"  What  could  suggest  such  a  question  to  my  prince, — - 
where  could  he  have  learnt  so  idle  a  word  ?  " 

The  prince  led  him  to  the  window  of  the  tower.  "  Lis= 
ten,  Eben  Bonabben,"  said  he.  The  sage  listened.  The 
nightingale  sat  in  a  thicket  below  the  tower,  singing  to 
his  paramour  the  rose  ;  from  every  blossomed  spray  and 
tufted  grove  rose  a  strain  of  melody ;  and  love — love — 
love — was  still  the  unvarying  strain. 

"  Allah  Akbar !  God  is  great ! "  exclaimed  the  wise 
Bonabben.  "  Who  shall  pretend  to  keep  this  secret 
from  the  heart  of  man,  when  even  the  birds  of  the  air 
conspire  to  betray  it  ?  " 

Then  turning  to  Ahmed — "  O  my  prince,"  cried  he, 
'*  shut  thine  ears  to  these  seductive  strains.  Close  thy 
mind  against  this  dangerous  knowledge.  Know  that  this 
love  is  the  cause  of  half  the  ills  of  wretched  mortality. 
It  is  this  which  produces  bitterness  and  strife  between 
brethren  and  friends  ;  which  causes  treacherous  murder 
and  desolating  war.  Care  and  sorrow,  weary  days  and 
sleepless  nights,  are  its  attendants.  It  withers  the 
bloom  and  blights  the  joy  of  youth,  and  brings  on  the 
ills  and  griefs  of  premature  old  age.  Allah  preserve 
thee,  my  prince,  in  total  ignorance  of  this  thing  called 
love ! " 

The  sage  Eben  Bonabben  hastily  retired,  leaving  the 
prince  plunged  in  still  deeper  j^erplexity.     It  was  in  vaic 


252  TEE  ALHAMBBA. 

he  attempted  to  dismiss  tlie  subject  from  his  mind;  it 
still  continued  uppermost  in  his  thoughts,  and  teased  and 
exhausted  him  with  vain  conjectures.  Surely,  said  he  to 
himself,  as  he  listened  to  the  tuneful  strains  of  the  birds, 
there  is  no  sorrow  in  those  notes  ;  everything  seems  ten- 
derness and  joy.  If  love  be  a  cause  of  such  wretched- 
ness and  strife,  why  are  not  these  birds  drooping  in  soli- 
tude, or  tearing  each  other  in  pieces,  instead  of  fluttering 
cheerfully  about  the  groves,  or  sporting  with  each  other 
among  the  flowers  ? 

He  lay  one  morning  on  his  couch,  meditating  on  this 
inexplicable  matter.  The  window  of  his  chamber  was 
open  to  admit  the  soft  morning  breeze,  which  came 
laden  with  the  perfume  of  orange-blossoms  from  the  val- 
ley of  the  Darro.  The  voice  of  the  nightingale  was 
faintly  heard,  still  chanting  the  wonted  theme.  As  the 
prince  was  listening  and  sighing,  there  was  a  sudden 
rushing  noise  in  the  air ;  a  beautiful  dove,  pursued  by  a 
hawk,  darted  in  at  the  window,  and  fell  panting  on  the 
floor,  while  the  pursuer,  balked  of  his  prey,  soared  off  to 
the  mountains. 

The  prince  took  up  the  gasping  bird,  smoothed  its 
feathers,  and  nestled  it  in  his  bosom.  When  he  had 
soothed  it  by  his  caresses,  he  put  it  in  a  golden  cage, 
and  offered  it,  with  his  own  hands,  the  whitest  and  finest 
of  wheat  and  the  purest  of  water.  The  bird,  however, 
refused  food,  and  sat  drooping  and  pining,  and  uttering 
piteous  moans. 


FIRST  LESSONS  OF  LOVK  253 

"What  aileth  thee?"  said  Ahmed.  "Hast  thou  not 
everything  thy  heart  can  wish  ?  " 

"  Alas,  no !  "  replied  the  dove ;  "  am  I  not  separated 
from  the  partner  of  my  heart,  and  that  too  in  the  happy 
spring-time,  the  very  season  of  love !  " 

"  Of  love  !  "  echoed  Ahmed.  "  I  pray  thee,  my  pretty 
bird,  canst  thou  then  tell  me  what  is  love  ?  " 

"  Too  well  can  I,  my  prince.  It  is  the  torment  of  one, 
the  felici'^y  of  two,  the  strife  and  enmity  of  three.  It  is 
a  charm  which  draws  two  beings  together,  and  unites 
them  by  delicious  sympathies,  making  it  happiness  to  be 
with  each  other,  but  misery  to  be  apart.  Is  there  no 
being  to  whom  you  are  drawn  by  these  ties  of  tender 
affection?" 

"  I  like  my  old  teacher  Eben  Bonabben  better  than 
any  other  being ;  but  he  is  often  tedious,  and  I  occasion- 
ally feel  myself  happier  without  his  society." 

"  That  is  not  the  sympathy  I  mean.  I  speak  of  love, 
the  great  mystery  and  principle  of  life :  the  intoxicating 
revel  of  youth  ;  the  sober  delight  of  age.  Look  forth,  my 
prince,  and  behold  how  at  this  blest  season  all  nature  is 
full  of  love.  Every  created  being  has  its  mate  ;  the  most 
insignificant  bird  sings  to  its  paramour  ;  the  very  beetle 
wooes  its  lady-beetle  in  the  dust,  and  yon  butterflies 
which  you  see  fluttering  high  above  the  tower  and  toying 
in  the  air,  are  happy  in  each  other's  loves.  Alas,  my 
prince  !  hast  thou  spent  so  many  of  the  precious  days  of 
youth  without  knowing  anything  of  love  ?     Is  there  no 


254  ^^^  ALHAMBBA. 

gentle  being  of  another  sex — no  beautiful  princess  noi 
lovely  damsel  who  has  ensnared  your  heart,  and  filled 
your  bosom  with  a  soft  tumult  of  pleasing  pains  and  ten= 
der  wishes  ?  " 

"I  begin  to  understand,"  said  the  prince,  sighing; 
"such  a  tumult  I  have  more  than  once  experienced, 
without  knowing  the  cause  ;  and  where  should  I  seek 
for  an  object  such  as  you  describe  in  this  dismal  soli- 
tude ?  " 

A  little  further  conversation  ensued,  and  the  first  ama- 
tory lesson  of  the  prince  was  complete. 

"Alas  !  "  said  he,  " if  love  be  indeed  such  a  delight,  and 
its  interruption  such  a  misery,  Allah  forbid  that  I  should 
mar  the  joy  of  any  of  its  votaries."  He  opened  the 
cage,  took  out  the  dove,  and  having  fondly  kissed  it,  car- 
ried it  to  the  window.  "  Go,  happy  bird,"  said  he,  "  re- 
joice with  the  partner  of  thy  heart  in  the  days  of  youth 
and  spring-time.  Why  should  I  make  thee  a  fellow-» 
prisoner  in  this  dreary  tower,  where  love  can  never 
enter?" 

The  dove  flapped  its  wings  in  rapture,  gave  one  vault 
into  the  air,  and  then  swooped  downward  on  whistling 
wings  to  the  blooming  bowers  of  the  Darro. 

The  prince  followed  him  with  his  eyes,  and  then  gave 
way  to  bitter  repining.  The  singing  of  the  birds,  which 
once  delighted  him,  now  added  to  his  bitterness.  Love  ! 
love  !  love  !  Alas,  poor  youth !  he  now  understood  the 
strain. 


TEE  SAGE  IN  PERIL.  255 

His  eyes  flashed  fire  when  next  he  beheld  the  sage 
Bonabben  *'  Why  hast  thou  kept  me  in  this  abject  ig- 
norance ?  "  cried  he.  "  Why  has  the  great  mystery  and 
principle  of  life  been  withheld  from  me,  in  which  I  find 
the  meanest  insect  is  so  learned  ?  Behold  all  nature  is 
in  a  revel  of  delight.  Every  created  being  rejoices  with 
its  mate.  This — this  is  the  love  about  which  I  have 
sought  instruction.  Why  am  I  alone  debarred  its  enjoy- 
paent  ?  Why  has  so  much  of  my  youth  been  wasted  with- 
out a  knowledge  of  its  raptures  ?  " 

The  sage  Bonabben  saw  that  all  further  reserve  was 
useless ;  for  the  prince  had  acquired  the  dangerous  and 
forbidden  knowledge.  He  revealed  to  him,  therefore, 
the  predictions  of  the  astrologers  and  the  precautions 
that  had  been  taken  in  his  education  to  avert  the  threat- 
ened evils.  "  And  now,  my  prince,"  added  he,  "  my  life 
is  in  your  hands.  Let  the  king  your  father  discover  that 
you  have  learned  the  passion  of  love  while  under  my 
guardianship,  and  my  head  must  answer  for  it." 

The  prince  was  as  reasonable  as  most  young  men  of 
his  age,  and  easily  listened  to  the  remonstrances  of  his 
tutor,  since  nothing  pleaded  against  them.  Besides,  he 
really  was  attached  to  Eben  Bonabben,  and  being  as  yet 
but  theoretically  acquainted  with  the  passion  of  love,  he 
consented  to  confine  the  knowledge  of  it  to  his  own 
bosom,  rather  than  endanger  the  head  of  the  philoso- 
pher. 

His  discretion  was  doomed,  however,  to  be  put  to  still 


256  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

further  proofs.  A  few  mornings  afterwards,  as  he  was 
ruminating  on  the  battlements  of  the  tower,  the  dove 
which  had  been  released  bj  him  came  hovering  in  the 
air,  and  alighted  fearlessly  upon  his  shoulder. 

The  prince  fondled  it  to  his  heart.  "Happy  bird," 
said  he,  "  who  can  fly,  as  it  were,  with  the  wings  of  the 
morning  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth.  "Where  hast 
thou  been  since  we  parted  ?  " 

"In  a  far  country,  my  prince,  whence  I  bring  you 
tidings  in  reward  for  my  liberty.  In  the  wild  compass 
of  my  flight,  which  extends  over  plain  and  mountain,  as 
I  was  soaring  in  the  air,  I  beheld  below  me  a  delightful 
garden  with  all  kinds  of  fruits  and  flowers.  It  was  in  a 
green  meadow,  on  the  banks  of  a  wandering  stream  :  and 
in  the  centre  of  the  garden  was  a  stately  palace.  I 
alighted  in  one  of  the  bowers  to  repose  after  my  weary 
flight.  On  the  green  bank  below  me  was  a  youthful 
princess,  in  the  very  sweetness  and  bloom  of  her  years. 
She  was  surrounded  by  female  attendants,  young  like 
herself,  who  decked  her  with  garlands  and  coronets  of 
flowers ;  but  no  flower  of  field  or  garden  could  compare 
with  her  for  loveliness.  Here,  however,  she  bloomed  in 
secret,  for  the  garden  was  surrounded  by  high  walls,  and 
no  mortal  man  was  permitted  to  enter.  When  I  beheld 
this  beauteous  maid,  thus  young  and  innocent  and  un- 
spotted by  the  world,  I  thought,  here  is  the  being  formed 
by  heaven  to  inspire  my  prince  with  love." 

The  description  was  a  spark  of  fire  to  the  combustible 


A  LOVE-MISSIVE.  257 

heart  of  Alimed ;  all  the  latent  amorousness  of  his  t9m-= 
perament  had  at  once  found  an  object,  and  he  conceived 
an  immeasurable  passion  for  the  princess.  He  wrote  a 
letter,  couched  in  the  most  impassioned  language, 
breathing  his  fervent  devotion,  but  bewailing  the  un-= 
happy  thraldom  of  his  person,  which  prevented  him  from 
seeking  her  out  and  throwing  himself  at  her  feet.  He 
added  couplets  of  the  most  tender  and  moving  eloquence, 
for  he  was  a  poet  by  nature,  and  inspired  by  love.  He 
addressed  his  letter — "To  the  Unknown  Beauty,  from 
the  captive  Prince  Ahmed;"  then  perfuming  it  with 
musk  and  roses,  he  gave  it  to  the  dove. 

"Away,  trustiest  of  messengers  !  "  said  he.  "Fly  over 
mountain,  and  valley,  and  river,  and  plain;  rest  not  in 
bower,  nor  set  foot  on  earth,  until  thou  hast  given  this 
letter  to  the  mistress  of  my  heart." 

The  dove  soared  high  in  air,  and  taking  his  course 
darted  away  in  one  undeviating  direction.  The  prince 
followed  him  with  his  eye  until  he  was  a  mere  speck  on  a 
cloud,  and  gradually  disappeared  behind  a  mountain. 

Day  after  day  he  watched  for  the  return  of  the  messen- 
ger of  love,  but  he  watched  in  vain.  He  began  to  accuse 
him  of  forgetfulness,  when  towards  sunset  one  evening 
the  faithful  bird  fluttered  into  his  apartment,  and  falling 
at  his  feet  expired.  The  arrow  of  some  wanton  archer 
had  pierced  his  breast,  yet  he  had  struggled  with  the 
lingerings  of  life  to  execute  his  mission.  As  the  prince 
bent  with  grief  over  this  gentle  martyr  to  fidelity,  he  be- 
17 


258  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

held  a  chain  of  pearls  round  his  neck,  attached  to  which, 
beneath  his  wing,  was  a  small  enamelled  picture.  It 
represented  a  lovely  princess  in  the  very  flower  of  her 
years.  It  was  doubtless  the  unknown  beauty  of  the  gar- 
den ;  but  who  and  where  was  she  ? — how  had  she  re- 
ceived his  letter  ?  and  was  this  picture  sent  as  a  token 
of  her  approval  of  his  passion?  Unfortunately  the 
death  of  the  faithful  dove  left  everything  in  mystery  and 
doubt. 

The  prince  gazed  on  the  picture  till  his  eyes  swam 
with  tears.  He  pressed  it  to  his  lips  and  to  his  heart ; 
he  sat  for  hours  contemplating  it  almost  in  an  agony  of 
tenderness.  "  Beautiful  image  !  "  said  he,  "  alas,  thou  art 
but  an  image !  Yet  thy  dewy  eyes  beam  tenderly  upon 
me  ;  those  rosy  lips  look  as  though  they  would  speak  en- 
couragement :  vain  fancies !  Have  they  not  looked  the 
same  on  some  more  happy  rival?  But  where  in  this 
wide  world  shall  I  hope  to  find  the  original?  "Who 
knows  what  mountains,  what  realms  may  separate  us ; 
what  adverse  chances  may  intervene?  Perhaps  now, 
even  now,  lovers  may  be  crowding  around  her,  while  I 
sit  here  a  prisoner  in  a  tower,  wasting  my  time  in  ado- 
ration of  a  painted  shadow." 

The  resolution  of  Prince  Ahmed  was  taken.  "  I  will 
fly  from  this  palace,"  said  he,  "which  has  become  an 
odious  prison ;  and,  a  pilgrim  of  love,  will  seek  this  un- 
known princess  throughout  the  world."  To  escape  from 
the  tower  in  the  day,  when  every  one  was  awake,  might 


THE  OWL  A  PHILOSOPHER.  259 

be  a  difficult  matter ;  but  at  night  the  palace  was  slightly 
guarded;  for  no  one  apprehended  any  attempt  of  the 
kind  from  the  prince,  who  had  always  been  so  passive  in 
his  captivity.  How  was  he  to  guide  himself,  however,  in 
his  darkling  flight,  being  ignorant  of  the  country  ?  He 
bethought  him  of  the  owl,  who  was  accustomed  to  roam 
at  night,  and  must  know  every  by-lane  and  secret  pass. 
Seeking  him  in  his  hermitage,  he  questioned  him  touch- 
ing his  knowledge  of  the  land.  Upon  this  the  owl  put  on 
a  mighty  self-important  look.  "You  must  know,  O 
prince,"  said  he,  "  that  we  owls  are  of  a  very  ancient  and 
extensive  family,  though  rather  fallen  to  decay,  and  pos- 
sess ruinous  castles  and  palaces  in  all  parts  of  Spain. 
There  is  scarcely  a  tower  of  the  mountains,  or  a  fortress 
of  the  plains,  or  an  old  citadel  of  a  city,  but  has  some 
brother,  or  uncle,  or  cousin,  quartered  in  it ;  and  in  go- 
ing tlie  rounds  to  visit  this  my  numerous  kindred,  I  have 
pried  into  every  nook  and  corner,  and  made  myself 
acquainted  with  every  secret  of  the  land." 

The  prince^  was  overjoyed  to  find  the  owl  so  deeply 
versed  in  topography,  and  now  informed  him,  in  confi- 
dence, of  his  tender  passion  and  his  intended  elopement, 
urging  him  to  be  his  companion  and  counsellor. 

"Go  to !  "  said  the  owl,  with  a  look  of  displeasure  ; 
"  am  I  a  bird  to  engage  in  a  love-affair  ? — I,  whose  whole 
time  is  devoted  to  meditation  and  the  moon?  " 

"Be  not  offended,  most  solemn  owl,"  replied  the 
prince  ;  "  abstract  thyself  for  a  time  from  meditation  and 


260  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

the  moon,  and  aid  me  in  my  flight,  and  thou  shalt  have 
whatever  heart  can  wish." 

"  I  have  that  already,"  said  the  owl :  "  a  few  mice  are 
sufficient  for  my  frugal  table,  and  this  hole  in  the  wall  is 
spacious  enough  for  my  studies  ;  and  what  more  does  a 
philosopher  like  myself  desire  ?  " 

"  Bethink  thee,  most  wise  owl,  that  while  moping  in 
thy  cell  and  gazing  at  the  moon,  all  thy  talents  are  lost 
to  the  world.  I  shall  one  day  be  a  sovereign  prince,  and 
may  advance  thee  to  some  post  of  honor  and  dignity." 

The  owl,  though  a  philosopher  and  above  the  ordinary 
wants  of  life,  was  not  above  ambition,  so  he  was  finally 
prevailed  on  to  elope  with  the  prince,  and  be  his  guide 
and  mentor  in  his  pilgrimage. 

The  plans  of  a  lover  are  promptly  executed.  The 
prince  collected  all  his  jewels,  and  concealed  them  about 
his  person  as  travelling  funds.  That  very  night  he  low- 
ered himself  by  his  scarf  from  a  balcony  of  the  tower, 
clambered  over  the  outer  walls  of  the  Generalife,  and, 
guided  by  the  owl,  made  good  his  escape  before  morning 
to  the  mountains. 

He  now  held  a  council  with  his  mentor  as  to  his  future 
course. 

"  Might  I  advise,"  said  the  owl,  "  I  would  recommend 
you  to  repair  to  Seville.  You  must  know  that  many 
years  since  I  was  on  a  visit  to  an  uncle,  an  owl  of  great 
dignity  and  power,  who  lived  in  a  ruined  wing  of  the 
Alcazar  of  that   place.     In  my  hoverings  at  night  over 


TEE  CABALISTIC  MA  YEN.  263 

the  city  I  frequently  remarked  a  light  burning  in  a 
lonely  tower.  At  length  I  alighted  on  the  battlements, 
and  found  it  to  proceed  from  the  lamp  of  an  Arabian 
magician :  he  was  surrounded  by  his  magic  books,  and 
on  his  shoulder  was  perched  his  familiar,  an  ancient 
raven  who  had  come  with  him  from  Egypt.  I  am  ac- 
quainted with  that  raven,  and  owe  to  him  a  great  part 
of  the  knowledge  I  possess.  The  magician  is  since  dead, 
but  the  raven  still  inhabits  the  tower,  for  these  birds  are 
of  wonderful  long  life.  I  would  advise  you,  O  prince,  to 
seek  that  raven,  for  he  is  a  soothsayer  and  a  conjurer, 
and  deals  in  the  black  art,  for  which  all  ravens,  and 
especially  those  of  Egypt,  are  renowned. 

The  prince  was  struck  with  the  wisdom  of  this  advice, 
and  accordingly  bent  his  course  towards  Seville.  He 
travelled  only  in  the  night  to  accommodate  his  com- 
panion, and  lay  by  during  the  day  in  some  dark  cavern 
or  mouldering  watch-tower,  for  the  owl  knew  every  hid- 
ing-hole of  the  kind,  and  had  a  most  antiquarian  taste 
for  ruins. 

At  length  one  morning  at  daybreak  they  reached  the 
city  of  Seville,  where  the  owl,  who  hated  the  glare  and 
bustle  of  crowded  streets,  halted  without  the  gate,  and 
took  up  his  quarters  in  a  hollow  tree. 

The  prince  entered  the  gate,  and  readily  found  the 
magic  tower,  which  rose  above  the  houses  of  the  city,  as 
a  palm-tree  rises  above  the  shrubs  of  the  desert ;  it  was 
in  fact  the  same  tower  standing  at  the  present  day,  and 


262  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

known  as  tlie  Giralda,  the  famous  MoorisL.  tower  of  Se» 
ville. 

The  prince  ascended  by  a  great  winding  staircase  to 
the  summit  of  the  tower,  where  he  found  the  cabalistic 
raven, — an  old,  mysterious,  gray-headed  bird,  ragged  in 
feather,  with  a  film  over  one  eye  that  gave  him  the  glare 
of  a  spectre.  He  was  perched  on  one  leg,  with  his  head 
turned  on  one  side,  poring  with  his  remaining  eye  on  a 
diagram  described  on  the  pavement. 

The  prince  approached  him  with  the  awe  and  rever- 
ence naturally  inspired  by  his  venerable  appearance  and 
supernatural  wisdom.  *'  Pardon  me,  most  ancient  and 
darkly  wise  raven,"  exclaimed  he,  "if  for  a  moment  I  in- 
terrupt those  studies  which  are  the  wonder  of  the  world. 
You  behold  before  you  a  votary  of  love,  who  would  fain 
seek  your  counsel  how  to  obtain  the  object  of  his  pas- 
sion." 

"In  other  words,"  said  the  raven,  with  a  significant 
look,  "  you  seek  to  try  my  skill  in  palmistry.  Come,  show 
me  your  hand,  and  let  me  decipher  the  mysterious  lines 
of  fortune." 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  the  prince,  "  I  come  not  to  pry  into 
the  decrees  of  fate,  which  are  hidden  by  Allah  from  the 
eyes  of  mortals ;  I  am  a  pilgrim  of  love,  and  seek  but  to 
find  a  clue  to  the  object  of  my  pilgrimage." 

"  And  can  you  be  at  any  loss  for  an  object  in  amorous 
Andalusia  ?  "  said  the  old  raven,  leering  upon  him  with 
his  single  eye  ;  "  above  all,  can  you  be  at  a  loss  in  wan- 


TEE  CABALISTIC  RAVEN.  263 

ton  Seville,  where  black-eyed  damsels  dance  the  zambra 
under  every  orange  grove  ?  " 

The  prince  blushed,  and  was  somewhat  shocked  at 
hearing  an  old  bird  with  one  foot  in  the  grave  talk  thus 
loosely.  "Believe  me,"  said  he,  gravely,  "  I  am  on  none 
such  light  and  vagrant  errand  as  thou  dost  insinuate. 
The  black-eyed  damsels  of  Andalusia  who  dance  among 
the  orange  groves  of  the  Guadalquivir  are  as  naught  to 
me.  I  seek  one  unknown  but  immaculate  beauty,  the 
original  of  this  picture  ;  and  I  beseech  thee,  most  potent 
raven,  if  it  be  within  the  scope  of  thy  knowledge  or  the 
reach  of  thy  art,  inform  me  where  she  may  be  found?  " 

The  gray-headed  raven  was  rebuked  by  the  gravity  of 
the  prince. 

"What  know  I,"  replied  he,  dryly,  "  of  youth  and 
beauty  ?  my  visits  are  to  the  old  and  withered,  not  the 
fresh  and  fair  ;  the  harbinger  of  fate  am  I ;  who  croak 
bodings  of  death  from  the  chimney-top,  and  flap  my 
wings  at  the  sick  man's  window.  You  must  seek  else- 
where for  tidings  of  your  unknown  beauty." 

"  And  where  can  I  seek  if  not  among  the  sons  of  wis- 
dom, versed  in  the  book  of  destiny  ?  Know  that  I  am 
a  royal  prince,  fated  by  the  stars,  and  sent  on  a  myste- 
rious enterprise  on  which  may  hang  the  destiny  of  em- 
pires." 

When  the  raven  heard  that  it  was  a  matter  of  vast  mo- 
ment, in  which  the  stars  took  interest,  he  changed  his 
tone  and  manner,  and  listened  with  profound  attention  to 


264  THE  ALHAMBJRA. 

the  story  of  the  prince.  When  it  was  concluded,  he  re« 
jplied,  "  Touching  this  princess,  I  can  give  thee  no  infor- 
mation of  myself,  for  my  flight  is  not  among  gardens,  or 
around  ladies'  bowers ;  but  hie  thee  to  Oordova,  seek  the 
palm-tree  of  the  great  Abderahman,  which  stands  in  the 
court  of  the  principal  mosque  :  at  the  foot  of  it  thou  wilt 
find  a  great  traveller  who  has  visited  all  countries  and 
courts,  and  been  a  favorite  with  queens  and  princesses. 
He  will  give  thee  tidings  of  the  object  of  thy  search." 

"Many  thanks  for  this  precious  information,"  said  the 
prince.     "Farewell,  most  venerable  conjurer." 

"Farewell,  pilgrim  of  love,"  said  the  raven,  dryly,  and 
again  fell  to  pondering  on  the  diagram. 

The  prince  sallied  forth  from  Seville,  sought  his  fel- 
low-traveller the  owl,  who  was  still  dozing  in  the  hollow 
tree,  and  set  off  for  Cordova. 

He  approached  it  along  hanging  gardens,  and  orange 
and  citron  groves,  overlooking  the  fair  valley  of  the  Gua- 
dalquivir, "When  arrived  at  its  gates  the  owl  flew  up  to  a 
dark  hole  in  the  wall,  and  the^prince  proceeded  in  quest 
of  the  palm-tree  planted  in  days  of  yore  by  the  great  Ab- 
derahman. It  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  great  court  of 
the  mosque,  towering  from  amidst  orange  and  cypress 
trees.  Dervises  and  Faquirs  were  seated  in  groups  un- 
der the  cloisters  of  the  court,  and  many  of  the  faithful 
were  performing  their  ablutions  at  the  fountains  before 
entering  the  mosque. 

At  the  foot  of  the  palm-tree  was  a  crowd  listening  to 


THE  TBAVELLEn  P ABBOT.  265 

the  words  of  one  who  appeared  to  be  talking  with  great 
volubility.  "  This,"  said  the  prince  to  himself,  "  must 
be  the  great  traveller  who  is  to  give  me  tidings  of  the 
unknown  princess."  He  mingled  in  the  crowd,  but  was 
astonished  to  perceive  that  they  were  all  listening  to  a 
parrot,  who  with  his  bright-green  coat,  pragmatical  eye, 
and  consequential  top-knot,  had  the  air  of  a  bird  on  ex- 
cellent terms  with  himself. 

"  How  is  this,"  said  the  prince  to  one  of  the  by-stand- 
ers,  "that  so  many  grave  persons  can  be  delighted  with 
the  garrulity  of  a  chattering  bird?  " 

"You  know  not  whom  you  speak  of,"  said  the  other; 
"this  parrot  is  a  descendant  of  the  famous  parrot  of 
Persia,  renowned  for  his  story-telling  talent.  He  has  all 
the  learning  of  the  East  at  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  and  can 
quote  poetry  as  fast  as  he  can  talk.  He  has  visited  vari- 
ous foreign  courts,  where  he  has  been  considered  an 
oracle  of  erudition.  He  has  been  a  universal  favorite 
also  with  the  fair  sex,  who  have  a  vast  admiration  for 
erudite  parrots  that  can  quote  poetry." 

"  Enough,"  said  the  prince,  "  I  will  have  some  private 
talk  with  this  distinguished  traveller.' 

He  sought  a  private  interview,  and  expounded  the 
nature  of  his  errand.  He  had  scarcely  mentioned  it 
when  the  parrot  burst  into  a  fit  of  dry  rickety  laughter, 
that  absolutely  brought  tears  into  his  eyes.  "  Excuse 
my  merriment,"  said  he,  "but  the  mere  mention  of  love 
always  sets  me  laughing." 


266  "I'UE  ALHAMBRA. 

The  prince  was  shocked  at  this  ill-timed  mirth.  "  la 
not  love,"  said  he,  "  the  great  mystery  of  nature,  the 
secret  principle  of  life,  the  universal  bond  of  sym- 
pathy?" 

"  A  fig's  end  !  "  cried  the  parrot,  interrupting  him ; 
"prithee  where  hast  thou  learned  this  sentimental  jar- 
gon ?  trust  me,  love  is  quite  out  of  vogue  ;  one  never 
hears  of  it  in  the  company  of  wits  and  people  of  refine- 
ment." 

The  prince  sighed  as  he  recalled  the  different  language 
of  his  friend  the  dove.  But  this  parrot,  thought  he,  has 
lived  about  the  court,  he  affects  the  wit  and  the  fine  gen- 
tleman, he  knows  nothing  of  the  thing  called  love.  Un- 
willing to  provoke  any  more  ridicule  of  the  sentiment 
which  filled  his  heart,  he  now  directed  his  inquiries  to 
the  immediate  purport  of  his  visit. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  he,  ''  most  accomplished  parrot,  thou 
who  hast  everywhere  been  admitted  to  the  most  secret 
bowers  of  beauty,  hast  thou  in  the  course  of  thy  travels 
met  with  the  original  of  this  portrait  ?  " 

The  parrot  took  the  picture  in  his  claw,  turned  his 
head  from  side  to  side,  and  examined  it  curiously  with 
either  eye.  "  Upon  my  honor,"  said  he,  "  a  very  pretty 
face,  very  pretty ;  but  then  one  sees  so  many  pretty 
women  in  one's  travels  that  one  can  hardly — but  hold — 
bless  me  !  now  I  look  at  it  again — sure  enough,  this  is 
the  Princess  Aldegonda  :  how  could  I  forget  one  that  is 
so  prodigious  a  favorite  with  me  !  " 


THE  TRA  YELLED  PARROT,  267 

"'*  The  Princess  Aldegonda !  "  echoed  the  prince  ;  "  and 
where  is  she  to  be  found  ?  " 

*'  Softly,  softly,"  said  the  parrot,  "  easier  to  be  fonnd 
than  gained.  She  is  the  only  daughter  of  the  Christian 
king  who  reigns  at  Toledo,  and  is  shut  up  from  the 
world  until  her  seventeenth  birthday,  on  account  of  some 
prediction  of  those  meddlesome  fellows  the  astrologers. 
You'll  not  get  a  sight  of  her ;  no  mortal  man  can  see  her. 
I  was  admitted  to  her  presence  to  entertain  her,  and  I 
assure  you,  on  the  word  of  a  parrot  who  has  seen  the 
world,  I  have  conversed  with  much  sillier  princesses  in 
my  time." 

"A  word  in  confidence,  my  dear  parrot,"  said  the 
prince.  "  I  am  heir  to  a  kingdom,  and  shall  one  day  sit 
upon  a  throne.  I  see  that  you  are  a  bird  of  parts,  and 
understand  the  world.  Help  me  to  gain  possession  of 
this  princess,  and  I  will  advance  you  to  some  distin- 
guished place  about  court." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  said  the  parrot;  "but  let  it  be  a 
sinecure  if  possible,  for  we  wits  have  a  great  dislike  to 
labor." 

Arrangements  were  promptly  made  :  the  prince  sallied 
forth  from  Cordova  through  the  same  gate  by  which  he 
had  entered ;  called  the  owl  down  from  the  hole  in  the 
wall,  introduced  him  to  his  new  travelling  companion  as 
a  brother  savant,  and  away  they  set  off  on  their  journey. 

They  travelled  much  more  slowly  than  accorded  with 
the  impatience  of  the  prince ;  but  the  parrot  was  accus- 


268  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

feomed  to  high  life,  and  did  not  like  to  be  disturbed  early 
in  the  morning.  The  owl,  on  the  other  hand,  was  for 
sleeping  at  mid-day,  and  lost  a  great  deal  of  time  by  his 
long  siestas.  His  antiquarian  taste  also  was  in  the  way ; 
for  he  insisted  on  pausing  and  inspecting  every  ruin,  and 
had  long  legendary  tales  to  tell  about  every  old  tower 
and  castle  in  the  country.  The  prince  had  supposed 
that  he  and  the  parrot,  being  both  birds  of  learning, 
would  delight  in  each  other's  society,  but  never  had  he 
been  more  mistaken.  They  were  eternally  bickering. 
The  one  was  a  wit,  the  other  a  philosopher.  The  parrot 
quoted  poetry,  was  critical  on  new  readings  and  eloquent 
on  small  points  of  erudition ;  the  owl  treated  all  such 
knowledge  as  trifling,  and  relished  nothing  but  meta- 
physics. Then  the  parrot  v/ould  sing  songs  and  repeat 
hrni  mots  and  crack  jokes  upon  his  solemn  neighbor,  and 
laugh  outrageously  at  his  own  wit;  all  which  proceed- 
ings the  owl  considered  as  a  grievous  invasion  of  his 
dignity,  and  would  scowl  and  sulk  and  swell,  and  b© 
silent  for  a  whole  day  together. 

The  prince  heeded  not  the  wranglings  of  his  compan- 
ions, being  wrapped  up  in  the  dreams  of  his  own  fancy 
and  the  contemplation  of  the  portrait  of  the  beautiful 
princess.  In  this  way  they  journeyed  through  the  stern 
passes  of  the  Sierra  Morena,  across  the  sunburnt  plains 
of  La  Mancha  and  Castile,  and  along  the  banks  of  the 
"  Golden  Tagus,"  which  winds  its  wizard  mazes  over  one 
half  of  Spain   and  Portugal.     At  length  they  came  ia 


TOLEDO.  269 

sight  of  a  strong  city  with  walls  and  towers  bnilt  on  a 
rocky  promontory,  round  the  foot  of  which  the  Tagus 
circled  with  brawling  violence. 

"Behold,"  exclaimed  the  owl,  "the  ancient  and  re- 
nowned city  of  Toledo  ;  a  city  famous  for  its  antiquities. 
Behold  those  venerable  domes  and  towers,  hoary  with 
time  and  clothed  with  legendary  grandeur,  in  which  so 
many  of  my  ancestors  have  meditated." 

"Pish!  "  cried  the  parrot,  interrupting  his  solemn  an- 
tiquarian rapture,  "  what  have  we  to  do  with  antiquities, 
and  legends,  and  your  ancestry  ?  Behold  what  is  more 
to  the  purpose — behold  the  abode  of  youth  and  beauty- 
behold  at  length,  O  prince,  the  abode  of  your  long-sought 
princess." 

The  prince  looked  in  the  direction  indicated  by  the 
parrot,  and  beheld,  in  a  delightful  green  meadow  on  the 
banks  of  the  Tagus,  a  stately  palace  rising  from  amidst 
the  bowers  of  a  delicious  garden.  It  was  just  such  a 
place  as  had  been  described  by  the  dove  as  the  residence 
of  the  original  of  the  picture.  He  gazed  at  it  with  a 
throbbing  heart ;  "  perhaps  at  this  moment,"  thought 
he,  "  the  beautiful  princess  is  sporting  beneath  those 
shady  bowers,  or  pacing  with  delicate  step  those  stately 
terraces,  or  reposing  beneath  those  lofty  roofs  ! "  As  he 
looked  more  narrowly,  he  perceived  that  the  walls  of  the 
garden  were  of  great  height,  so  as  to  defy  access,  while 
numbers  of  armed  guards  patrolled  around  them. 

The  prince  turned  to  the  parrot.      "  O  most  accom- 


270  THE  A'LEAMBRA. 

plished  of  birds,"  said  he,  "  tliou  hast  the  gift  of  human 
speech.  Hie  thee  to  yon  garden ;  seek  the  idol  of  my 
soul,  and  tell  her  that  Prince  Ahmed,  a  pilgrim  of  love, 
and  guided  by  the  stars,  has  arrived  in  quest  of  her  on 
the  flowery  banks  of  the  Tagus." 

The  parrot,  proud  of  his  embassy,  flew  away  to  the 
garden,  mounted  above  its  lofty  walls,  and  after  soaring 
for  a  time  over  the  lawns  and  groves,  alighted  on  the  bal- 
cony of  a  pavilion  that  overhung  the  river.  Here,  look- 
ing in  at  the  casement,  he  beheld  the  princess  reclining 
on  a  couch,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  a  paper,  while  tears 
gently  stole  after  each  other  down  her  pallid  cheek. 

Pluming  his  wings  for  a  moment,  adjusting  his  bright- 
green  coat,  and  elevating  his  top-knot,  the  parrot  perched 
himself  beside  her  with  a  gallant  air ;  then  assuming  a 
tenderness  of  tone,  "  Dry  thy  tears,  most  beautiful  of  prin- 
cesses," said  he ;  "I  come  to  bring  solace  to  thy  heart." 

The  princess  was  startled  on  hearing  a  voice,  but  turn- 
ing and  seeing  nothing  but  a  little  green-coated  bird  bob- 
bing and  bowing  before  her,  "Alas!  what  solace  canst 
thou  yield,"  said  she,  "seeing  thou  art  but  a  parrot  ?  " 

The  parrot  was  nettled  at  the  question.  "I  have  con- 
soled many  beautiful  ladies  in  my  time,"  said  he ;  "  but 
let  that  pass.  At  present  I  come  ambassador  from  a 
royal  prince.  Know  that  Ahmed,  the  prince  of  Granada, 
has  arrived  in  quest  of  thee,  and  is  encamped  even  now 
on  the  flowery  banks  of  the  Tagus." 

The  eyes  of  the  beautiful  princess  sparkled  at  these 


THE  AMBASSADOR  PABBOT.  271 

words  even  brighter  than  the  diamonds  in  her  coronet. 
"  O  sweetest  of  parrots,"  cried  she,  "joyful  indeed  are 
thy  tidings,  for  I  was  faint  and  weary,  and  sick  almost 
unto  death  with  doubt  of  the  constancy  of  Ahmed.  Hie 
thee  back,  and  tell  him  that  the  words  of  his  letter  are 
engraven  in  my  heart,  and  his  poetry  has  been  the  food 
of  my  soul.  Tell  him,  however,  that  he  must  prepare  to 
prove  his  love  by  force  of  arms  ;  to-morrow  is  my  seven- 
teenth birthday,  when  the  king  my  father  holds  a  great 
tournament;  several  princes  are  to  enter  the  lists,  and 
my  hand  is  to  be  the  prize  of  the  victor." 

The  parrot  again  took  wing,  and  rustling  through  the 
groves,  flew  back  to  where  the  prince  awaited  his  return. 
The  rapture  of  Ahmed  on  finding  the  original  of  his 
adored  portrait,  and  finding  her  kind  and  true,  can  only 
be  conceived  by  those  favored  mortals  who  have  had  the 
good  fortune  to  realize  day-dreams  and  turn  a  shadow 
into  substance  :  still  there  was  one  thing  that  alloyed  his 
transport — this  impending  tournament.  In  fact,  the 
banks  of  the  Tagus  were  already  glittering  with  arms, 
and  resounding  with  trumpets  of  the  various  knights, 
who,  with  proud  retinues,  were  prancing  on  towards  To- 
ledo to  attend  the  ceremonial.  The  same  star  that  had 
controlled  the  destiny  of  the  prince  had  governed  that  of 
the  princess,  and  until  her  seventeenth  birthday  she  had 
been  shut  up  from  the  world,  to  guard  her  from  the  ten- 
der passion.  The  fame  of  her. charms,  however,  had  been 
enhanced  rather  than  obscured  by  this  seclusion.     Sev- 


272  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

eral  powerful  princes  had  contended  for  her  hand ;  and 
her  father,  who  was  a  king  of  wondrous  shrewdness,  to 
avoid  making  enemies  by  showing  partiality,  had  re- 
ferred them  to  the  arbitrament  of  arms.  Among  the 
rival  candidates  were  several  renowned  for  strength  and 
prowess.  What  a  predicament  for  the  unfortunate  Ah- 
med, unprovided  as  he  was  v/ith  weapons,  and  unskilled 
in  the  exercise  of  chivalry  !  "  Luckless  prince  that  I 
am!"  said  he,  "to  have  been  brought  up  in  seclusion 
under  the  eye  of  a  philosopher  !  Of  what  avail  are  alge- 
bra and  philosophy  in  affairs  of  love  ?  Alas,  Eben  Bon- 
abben !  why  hast  thou  neglected  to  instruct  me  in  the 
management  of  arms  ? "  Upon  this  the  owl  broke  si- 
lence, preluding  his  harangue  with  a  pious  ejaculation, 
for  he  was  a  devout  Mussulman. 

"  Allah  Akbar !  God  is  great !  "  exclaimed  he  ;  "  in  his 
hands  are  all  secret  things — he  alone  governs  the  destiny 
of  princes !  Know,  O  prince,  that  this  land  is  full  of 
mysteries,  hidden  from  all  but  those  who,  like  myself, 
can  grope  after  knowledge  in  the  dark.  Know  that  in 
the  neighboring  mountains  there  is  a  cave,  and  in  that 
cave  there  is  an  iron  table,  and  on  that  table  there  lies  a 
suit  of  magic  armor,  and  beside  that  table  there  stands  a 
spell-bound  steed,  which  have  been  shut  up  there  for 
many  generations." 

The  prince  stared  with  wonder,  while  the  owl,  blinking 
his  huge  round  eyes,  and  erecting  his  horns,  proceeded. 

"  Many  years  since  I  accompanied  my  father  to  these 


ENCHANTED  ARMOR.  273 

parts  on  a  tour  of  his  estates,  and  we  sojourned  in  tliat 
cave;  and  tlius  became  I  acquainted  with  the  mystery. 
It  is  a  tradition  in  our  family  which  I  have  heard  from 
my  grandfather,  Y/hen  I  was  yet  but  a  very  little  owlet, 
that  this  armor  belonged  to  a  Moorish  magician,  who  took 
refuge  in  this  cavern  when  Toledo  was  captured  by  the 
Christians,  and  died  here,  leaving  his  steed  and  w^eapons 
under  a  mystic  spell,  never  to  be  used  but  by  a  Moslem, 
and  by  him  only  from  sunrise  to  mid-day.  In  that  inter- 
val, whoever  uses  them  will  overthrow  every  opponent." 

"  Enough  :  let  us  seek  this  cave  !  "  exclaimed  Ahmed. 

Guided  by  his  legendary  mentor,  the  prince  found  the 
cavern,  which  was  in  one  of  the  wildest  recesses  of  those 
rocky  cliffs  which  rise  around  Toledo ;  none  but  the 
mousing  eye  of  an  owl  or  an  antiquary  could  have 
discovered  the  entrance  to  it.  A  sepulchral  lamp  of 
everlasting  oil  shed  a  solemn  light  through  the  place. 
On  an  iron  table  in  the  centre  of  the  cavern  lay  the 
magic  armor,  against  it  leaned  the  lance,  and  beside  it 
stood  an  Arabian  steed,  caparisoned  for  the  field,  but 
motionless  as  a  statue.  The  armor  was  bright  and 
unsullied  as  it  had  gleamed  in  days  of  old ;  the  steed 
in  as  good  condition  as  if  just  from  the  pasture ;  and 
when  Ahmed  laid  his  hand  upon  his  neck,  he  pawed  the 
ground  and  gave  a  loud  neigh  of  joy  that  shook  the  walls 
of  the  cavern.  Thus  amply  provided  with  *' horse  and 
rider  and  weapon  to  wear,"  .  the  prince   determined   to 

defy  the  field  in  the  impending  tourney. 

18 


274  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Tlie  eventful  morning  arrived.  The  lists  for  the  com- 
bat were  prepared  in  the  Vega,  or  plain,  just  below  the 
cliff-built  walls  of  Toledo,  where  stages  and  galleries 
were  erected  for  the  spectators,  covered  with  rich  tapes- 
try, and  sheltered  from  the  sun  by  silken  awnings.  All 
the  beauties  of  the  land  were  assembled  in  those  gal- 
leries, while  below  pranced  plumed  knights  with  their 
pages  and  esquires,  among  whom  figured  conspicuously 
the  princes  who  were  to  contend  in  the  tourney.  All  the 
beauties  of  the  land,  however,  were  eclipsed  when  the 
Princess  Aldegonda  appeared  in  the  royal  pavilion,  and 
for  the  first  time  broke  forth  upon  the  gaze  of  an  admir- 
ing world.  A  murmur  of  wonder  ran  through  the  crowd 
at  her  transcendent  loveliness ;  and  the  princes  who  were 
candidates  for  her  hand,  merely  on  the  faith  of  her  re- 
ported charms,  now  felt  tenfold  ardor  for  the  conflict. 

The  princess,  however,  had  a  troubled  look.  The  col- 
or came  and  went  from  her  cheek,  and  her  eye  wan- 
dered with  a  restless  and  unsatisfied  expression  over  the 
plumed  throng  of  knights.  The  trumpets  were  about 
sounding  for  the  encounter,  when  the  herald  announced 
the  arrival  of  a  strange  knight ;  and  Ahmed  rode  into  the 
field.  A  steel  helmet  studded  with  gems  rose  above  his 
turban ;  his  cuirass  was  embossed  with  gold  ;  his  cimeter 
and  dagger  were  of  the  workmanship  of  Fez,  and  flamed 
with  precious  stones.  A  round  shield  was  at  his  shoul- 
der, and  in  his  hand  he  bore  the  lance  of  charmed  vir- 
tue.    The  caparison  of  his  Arabian  steed  was  richly  em- 


ENCHANTEB  ARMOR.  275 

broidered  and  swept  the  ground,  and  the  proud  animal 
pranced  and  snuffed  the  air,  and  neighed  with  joy  at  once 
more  beholding  the  array  of  arms.  The  lofty  and  grace- 
ful demeanor  of  the  prince  struck  every  eye,  and  when 
his  appellation  was  announced,  "  The  Pilgrim  of  Love," 
a  universal  flutter  and  agitation  prevailed  among  the  fair 
dames  in  the  galleries. 

"When  Ahmed  presented  himself  at  the  lists,  however, 
they  were  closed  against  him :  none  but  |)5:inces,  he  was 
told,  were  admitted  to  the  contest.  He  declared  his 
name  and  rank.  Still  worse ! — he  was  a  Moslem,  and 
could  not  engage  in  a  tourney  where  the  hand  of  a  Chris- 
tian princess  was  the  prize. 

The  rival  j)rinces  surrounded  him  with  haughty  and 
menacing  aspects ;  and  one  of  insolent  demeanor  and 
herculean  frame  sneered  at  his  light  and  youthful  form, 
and  scoffed  at  his  amorous  appellation.  The  ire  of  the 
prince  was  roused.  He  defied  his  rival  to  the  encounter. 
They  took  distance,  wheeled,  and  charged ;  and  at  the 
first  touch  of  the  magic  lance,  the  brawny  scoffer  was 
tilted  from  his  saddle.  Here  the  prince  would  have 
paused,  but,  alas  !  he  had  to  deal  with  a  demoniac  horse 
and  armor ;  once  in  action,  nothing  could  control  them. 
The  Arabian  steed  charged  into  the  thickest  of  the 
throng  ;  the  lance  overturned  everything  that  presented ; 
the  gentle  prince  was  carried  pell-mell  about  the  field, 
strewing  it  with  high  and  low,  gentle  and  simple,  and 
grieving   at    his   own    involuntary   exploits.      The  king 


276  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

stormed  and  raged  at  this  outrage  on  his  siibjects  and 
his  guests.  He  ordered  out  ail  liis  guards — they  were 
■unhorsed  as  fast  as  tliey  came  up.  The  king  tiirew  off 
his  robes,  grasped  buckler  and  lance,  and  rode  forth  to 
awe  the  stranger  with  the  presence  of  majesty  itself. 
Alas !  majesty  fared  no  better  than  the  vulgar  ;  the  steel 
and  lance  were  no  respecters  of  persons ;  to  the  dismay 
of  Ahmed,  he  was  borne  full  tilt  against  the  king,  and  in 
a  moment  the  royal  heels  were  in  the  air,  and  the  crown 
was  rolling  in  the  dust. 

At  this  moment  the  sun  reached  the  meridian ;  the 
magic  spell  resumed  its  power ;  the  Arabian  steed 
scoured  across  the  plain,  leaped  the  barrier,  plunged  into 
the  Tagus,  swam  its  raging  current,  bore  the  prince 
breathless  and  amazed  to  the  cavern,  and  resumed  his 
station,  like  a  statue,  beside  the  iron  table.  The  prince 
dismounted  right  gladly,  and  replaced  the  armor,  to 
abide  the  further  decrees  of  fate.  Then  seating  himself 
in  the  cavern,  he  ruminated  on  the  desperate  state  to 
which  this  demoniac  steed  and  armor  had  reduced  him. 
Never  should  he  dare  to  show  his  face  at  Toledo  after 
inflicting  such  disgrace  upon  its  chivalry,  and  such  an 
outrage  on  its  king.  "What  too  would  the  princess  think 
of  so  rude  and  riotous  an  achievement?  Full  of  anx- 
iety, he  sent  forth  his  winged  messengers  to  gather  tid- 
ings. .  The  parrot  resorted  to  all  the  public  places  and 
crowded  resorts  of  the  city,  and  soon  returned  with  a 
world  of  gossip.     All  Toledo  was  in  consternation.     The 


THE  REPORT  OF  THE  PARROT,  2TI 

princess  had  been  borne  off  senseless  to  the  palace  ;  the 
tournament  had  ended  in  confusion ;  every  one  was  talk- 
ing of  the  sudden  apparition,  prodigious  exploits,  and 
strange  disappearance  of  the  Moslem  knight.  Some  pro- 
nounced him  a  Moorish  magician  ;  others  thought  him  a 
demon  who  had  assumed  a  human  shape,  while  others 
related  traditions  of  enchanted  warriors  hidden  in  the 
caves  of  the  mountains,  and  thought  it  might  be  one  of 
these,  who  had  made  a  sudden  irruption  from  his  den. 
All  agreed  that  no  mere  ordinary  mortal  could  have 
wrought  such  wonders,  or  unhorsed  such  accomplished 
and  stalwart  Christian  warriors. 

The  owl  flew  forth  at  night  and  hovered  about  the 
dusky  city,  perching  on  the  roofs  and  chimneys.  He  then 
wheeled  his  flight  up  to  the  royal  palace,  which  stood  on 
a  rocky  summit  of  Toledo,  and  went  prowling  about  its 
terraces  and  battlements,  eavesdropping  at  every  cranny, 
and  glaring  in  with  his  big  goggling  eyes  at  every  win- 
dow where  there  was  a  light,  so  as  to  throw  two  or  three 
maids  of  honor  into  fits.  It  was  not  until  the  gray  dawn 
began  to  peer  above  the  mountains  that  he  returned 
from  his  mousing  expedition,  and  related  to  the  prince 
what  he  had  seen. 

"  As  I  was  prying  about  one  of  the  loftiest  towers  of 
the  palace,"  said  he,  "  I  beheld  through  a  casement  a 
beautiful  princess.  She  was  reclining  on  a  couch  with 
attendants  and  physicians  around  her,  but  she  would 
none  of  their  ministry  and  relief.     When  they  retired,  I 


278  THE  ALRAMBMA. 

beheld  her  draw  forth  a  letter  from  her  bosom,  and 
read  and  kiss  it,  and  give  way  to  loud  lamentations ;  at 
which,  philosopher  as  I  am,  I  could  but  be  greatly 
moved." 

The  tender  heart  of  Ahmed  was  distressed  at  these 
tidings.  "  Too  true  were  thy  words,  O  sage  Eben  Bon- 
abben,"  cried  he ;  "  care  and  sorrow  and  sleepless 
nights  are  the  lot  of  lovers.  Allah  preserve  the  princess 
from  the  blighting  influence  of  this  thing  called  love  !  " 

Further  intelligence  from  Toledo  corroborated  the  re- 
port of  the  owl.  The  city  was  a  prey  to  uneasiness  and 
alarm.  The  princess  was  conveyed  to  the  highest  tower 
of  the  palace,  every  avenue  to  which  was  strongly  guard- 
ed. In  the  meantime  a  devouring  melancholy  had  seized 
upon  her,  of  which  no  one  could  divine  the  cause — she 
refused  food  and  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  every  consolation. 
The  most  skilful  physicians  had  essayed  their  art  in 
vain ;  it  was  thought  some  magic  spell  had  been  prac- 
tised upon  her,  and  the  king  made  proclamation,  declar- 
ing that  whoever  should  effect  her  cure  should  receive 
the  richest  jewel  in  the  royal  treasury. 

When  the  owl,  who  was  dozing  in  a  corner,  heard  of 
this  proclamation,  he  rolled  his  large  eyes  and  looked 
more  mysterious  than  ever. 

"  Allah  Akbar ! "  exclaimed  he,  "happy  the  man  that 
shall  effect  that  cure,  should  he  but  know  what  to  choose 
from  the  royal  treasury." 

"  What  mean  you,  most  reverend  owl  ?  "  said  Ahmed. 


THE  GABPET  OF  SOLOMON,  279 

"  Hearken,  O  prince,  to  wliat  I  sliall  relate.  We  owls^ 
you  must  know,  are  a  learned  body,  and  much  given  to 
dark  and  dusty  research.  During  my  late  prowling  at 
night  about  the  domes  and  turrets  of  Toledo,  I  discov- 
ered a  college  of  antiquarian  owls,  who  hold  their  meet- 
ings in  a  great  vaulted  tower  where  the  royal  treasury  is 
deposited.  Here  they  were  discussing  the  forms  and  in- 
scriptions  and  designs  of  ancient  gems  and  jewels,  and  of 
golden  and  silver  vessels,  heaped  up  in  the  treasury,  the 
fashion  of  every  country  and  age  ;  but  mostly  they  were 
interested  about  certain  relics  and  talismans  that  have 
remained  in  the  treasury  since  the  time  of  Roderick  the 
Goth.  Among  these  was  a  box  of  sandal- wood  secured 
by  bands  of  steel  of  Oriental  workmanship,  and  inscribed 
with  mystic  characters  known  only  to  the  learned  few. 
This  box  and  its  inscription  had  occupied  the  college  for 
several  sessions,  and  had  caused  much  long  and  grave 
dispute.  At  the  time  of  my  visit  a  very  ancient  owl,  who 
had  recently  arrived  from  Egypt,  was  seated  on  the  lid  of 
the  box,  lecturing  upon  the  inscription,  and  he  proved 
from  it  that  the  coffer  contained  the  silken  carpet  of  the 
throne  of  Solomon  the  Wise  ;  which  doubtless  had  been 
brought  to  Toledo  by  the  Jews  who  took  refuge  there 
after  the  downfall  of  Jerusalem." 

When  the  owl  had  concluded  his  antiquarian  ha- 
rangue, the  prince  remained  for  a  time  absorbed  in 
thought.  "  I  have  heard,"  said  he,  "  from  the  sage  Eben 
Bonabben,  of  the  wonderful  properties  of  that  talisman, 


280  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

which  disappeared  at  the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  and  was  sup- 
posed to  be  lost  to  mankind.  Doubtless  it  remains  a 
sealed  mystery  to  the  Christians  of  Toledo.  If  I  can  get 
possession  of  that  carpet,  my  fortune  is  secure." 

The  next  day  the  prince  laid  aside  his  rich  attire,  and 
arrayed  himself  in  the  simple  garb  of  an  Arab  of  the 
desert.  He  dyed  his  complexion  to  a  tawny  hue,  and  no 
one  could  have  recognized  in  him  the  splendid  warrior 
who  had  caused  such  admiration  and  dismay  at  the 
tournament.  With  staff  in  hand,  and  scrip  by  his  side, 
and  a  small  pastoral  reed,  he  repaired  to  Toledo,  and 
presenting  himself  at  the  gate  of  the  royal  palace,  an- 
nounced himself  as  a  candidate  for  the  reward  offered  for 
the  cure  of  the  princess.  The  guards  would  have  driven 
him  away  with  blows.  "  What  can  a  vagrant  Arab  like 
thyself  pretend  to  do,"  said  they,  "  in  a  case  where  the 
most  learned  of  the  land  have  failed  ?  "  The  king,  how- 
ever, overheard  the  tumult,  and  ordered  the  Arab  to  be 
brought  into  his  presence. 

"  Most  potent  king,"  said  Ahmed,  "  you  behold  before 
you  a  Bedouin  Arab,  the  greater  part  of  whose  life  has 
been  passed  in  the  solitudes  of  the  desert.  These  soli- 
tudes, it  is  well  known,  are  the  haunts  of  demons  and 
evil  spirits,  who  beset  us  poor  shepherds  in  our  lonely 
watchings,  enter  into  and  possess  our  flocks  and  herds, 
and  sometimes  render  even  the  patient  camel  furious ; 
against  these,  our  counter-charm  is  music ;  and  we  have 
legendary  airs  handed  down  from  generation  to  genera- 


THE  PO  WEE   OE  MU8IC.  281 

tion,  that  we  chant  and  pipe,  to  cast  forth  these  evil 
spirits.  I  am  of  a  gifted  line,  and  possess  this  power  in 
its  fullest  force.  If  it  be  any  evil  influence  of  the  kind 
that  holds  a  spell  over  thy  daughter,  I  pledge  my  head 
to  free  her  from  its  sway." 

The  king,  who  was  a  man  of  understanding,  and  knew 
the  wonderful  secrets  possessed  by  the  Arabs,  was  in- 
spired with  hope  by  the  confident  language  of  the  prince. 
He  conducted  him  immediately  to  the  lofty  tower,  se- 
cured by  several  doors,  in  the  summit  of  which  was  the 
chamber  of  the  princess.  The  windows  opened  upon  a 
terrace  with  balustrades,  commanding  a  view  over  Toledo 
and  all  the  surrounding  country.  The  windows  were 
darkened,  for  the  princess  lay  within,  a  prey  to  a  de- 
vouring grief  that  refused  all  alleviation. 

The  prince  seated  himself  on  the  terrace,  and  per- 
formed several  wild  Arabian  airs  on  his  pastoral  pipe, 
which  he  had  learnt  from  his  attendants  in  the  Gener- 
alife  at  Granada.  The  princess  continued  insensible,  and 
the  doctors  who  were  present  shook  their  heads,  and 
smiled  with  incredulity  and  contempt :  at  length  the 
prince  laid  aside  the  reed,  and,  to  a  simple  melody, 
chanted  the  amatory  verses  of  the  letter  which  had  de- 
clared his  passion. 

The  princess  recognized  the  strain — a  fluttering  joy 
stole  to  her  heart;  she  raised  her  head  and  listened; 
tears  rushed  to  her  eyes  and  streamed  down  her  cheeks ; 
her  bosom  rose  and  fell  with  a  tumult  of  emotions.     She 


282  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

would  have  asked  for  the  minstrel  to  be  brought  into  her 
presence,  but  maiden  coyness  held  her  silent.  The  king 
read  her  wishes,  and  at  his  command  Ahmed  was  con- 
ducted into  the  chamber.  The  lovers  were  discreet :  they 
but  exchanged  glances,  yet  those  glances  spoke  volumes. 
Never  was  triumph  of  music  more  complete.  The  rose 
had  returned  to  the  soft  cheek  of  the  princess,  the  fresh- 
ness to  her  lip,  and  the  dewy  light  to  her  languishing 
eyes. 

All  the  physicians  present  stared  at  each  other  with 
astonishment.  The  king  regarded  the  Arab  minstrel 
with  admiration  mixed  with  awe.  "  Wonderful  youth  !  " 
exclaimed  he,  "thou  shalt  henceforth  be  the  first  phy- 
sician of  my  court,  and  no  other  prescription  will  I  take 
but  thy  melody.  For  the  present  receive  thy  reward,  the 
most  precious  jewel  in  my  treasury." 

"O  king,"  replied  Ahmed,  "I  care  not  for  silver  or  gold 
or  precious  stones.  One  relic  hast  thou  in  thy  treas- 
ury, handed  down  from  the  Moslems  who  once  owned 
Toledo — a  box  of  sandal- wood  containing  a  silken  carpet : 
give  me  that  box,  and  I  am  content." 

All  present  were  surprised  at  the  moderation  of  the 
Arab,  and  still  more  when  the  box  of  sandal-wood  was 
brought  and  the  carpet  drawn  forth.  It  was  of  fine  green 
silk,  covered  with  Hebrew  and  Chaldaic  characters.  The 
court  physicians  looked  at  each  other,  shrugged  their 
shoulders,  and  smiled  at  the  simplicity  of  this  new  praC' 
titioner,  who  could  be  content  with  so  paltry  a  fee. 


THE  CARPET  OF  SOLOMON.  283 

"This  carpet,"  said  the  prince,  "once  covered  the 
throne  of  Solomon  the  Wise ;  it  is  worthy  of  being  placed 
beneath  the  feet  of  beauty." 

So  saying,  he  spread  it  on  the  terrace  beneath  an  otto- 
man that  had  been  brought  forth  for  the  princess ;  then 
seating  himself  at  her  feet — 

"  "Who,"  said  he,  "  shall  counteract  what  is  written  in 
the  book  of  fate  ?  Behold  the  prediction  of  the  astrolo- 
gers verified.  Know,  O  king,  that  your  daughter  and  I 
have  long  loved  each  other  in  secret.  Behold  in  me  the 
Pilgrim  of  Love  !  " 

These  words  were  scarcely  from  his  lips  when  the 
carpet  rose  in  the  air,  bearing  off  the  prince  and  prin- 
cess. The  king  and  the  physicians  gazed  after  it  with 
open  mouths  and  straining  eyes  until  it  became  a  little 
speck  on  the  white  bosom  of  a  cloud,  and  then  disap- 
peared in  the  blue  vault  of  heaven. 

The  king  in  a  rage  summoned  his  treasurer.  "  How  is 
this,"  said  he,  "  that  thou  hast  suffered  an  infidel  to  get 
possession  of  such  a  talisman  ?  " 

"Alas,  sir,  we  knew  not  its  nature,  nor  could  we  de- 
cipher the  inscription  of  the  box.  If  it  be  indeed  the 
carpet  of  the  throne  of  the  wise  Solomon,  it  is  possessed 
of  magic  power,  and  can  transport  its  owner  from  place 
to  place  through  the  air." 

The  king  assembled  a  mighty  army,  and  set  off  for 
Granada  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives.  His  march  was  long 
and  toilsome.     Encamping  in  the  Vega,  he  sent  a  herald 


284  ^'^^  ALHAMBBA. 

to  demand  restitution  of  his  daughter.  The  king  himself 
came  forth  with  all  his  court  to  meet  him.  In  the  king 
he  beheld  the  real  minstrel,  for  Ahmed  had  succeeded  to 
the  throne  on  the  death  of  his  father,  and  the  beautiful 
Aldegonda  was  his  sultana. 

The  Christian  king  was  easily  pacified  when  he  found 
that  his  daughter  was  suffered  to  continue  in  her  faith ; 
not  that  he  was  particularly  pious,  but  religion  is  always 
a  point  of  pride  and  etiquette  with  princes.  Instead  of 
bloody  battles,  there  was  a  succession  of  feasts  and  re- 
joicings, after  which  the  king  returned  well  pleased  to 
Toledo,  and  the  youthful  couple  continued  to  reign  as 
happily  as  wisely,  in  the  Alhambra. 

It  is  proper  to  add,  that  the  owl  and  the  parrot  had 
severally  followed  the  prince  by  easy  stages  to  Granada ; 
the  former  travelling  by  night,  and  stopping  at  the  vari- 
ous hereditary  possessions  of  his  family ;  the  latter  figur- 
ing in  gay  circles  of  every  town  and  city  on  his  route. 

Ahmed  gratefully  requited  the  services  which  they  had 
rendered  on  his  pilgrimage.  He  appointed  the  owl  his 
prime  minister,  the  parrot  his  master  of  ceremonies.  It 
is  needless  to  say  that  never  was  a  realm  more  sagely  ad- 
ministered, nor  a  court  conducted  with  more  exact  puno' 
tilio. 


A  RAMBLE    AMONG    THE    HILLS. 

USED  frequently  to  amuse  myself  towards  the 
close  of  the  day,  when  the  heat  had  subsided^ 
with  taking  long  rambles  about  the  neighbor- 
ing hills,  and  the  deep'  umbrageous  yalleys,  accompanied 
by  my  historiographic  squire,  Mateo,  to  whose  passion 
for  gossiping  I  on  such  occasions  gave  the  most  un- 
bounded license ;  and  there  was  scarce  a  rock,  or  ruin,  or 
broken  fountain,  or  lonely  glen,  about  which  he  had  not 
some  marvellous  story ;  or,  above  all,  some  golden  le- 
gend ;  for  never  was  poor  devil  so  munificent  in  dispens- 
ing hidden  treasures. 

In  the  course  of  one  of  these  strolls  Mateo  was  more 
than  usually  communicative.  It  was  toward  sunset  that 
we  sallied  forth  from  the  great  Gate  of  Justice,  and  as- 
cended an  alley  of  trees  until  we  came  to  a  clump  of  figs 
and  pomegranates  at  the  foot  of  the  Tower  of  the  Seven 
Floors  (de  los  siete  suelos),  the  identical  tower  whence 
Boabdil  is  said  to  have  issued,  when  he  surrendered  his 
capital.  Here,  pointing  to  a  low  archway  in  the  founda- 
tion, Mateo  informed  me  of  a  monstrous  sprite  or  hob- 
goblin, said  to  infest  this  tower,  ever  since  the  time  of 

285 


286  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

the  Moors,  and  to  guard  tlie  treasures  of  a  Moslem  king. 
Sometimes  it  issues  forth  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  and 
scours  the  avenues  of  the  Alhambra,  and  the  streets  of 
Granada,  in  the  shape  of  a  headless  horse,  pursued  by 
six  dogs  with  terrible  yells  and  bowlings. 

"  But  have  you  ever  met  with  it  yourself,  Mateo,  in  any 
of  your  rambles  ?"  demanded  I. 

"  No,  Senor,  God  be  thanked  !  but  my  grandfather,  the 
tailor,  knew  several  persons  that  had  seen  it,  for  it  went 
about  much  oftener  in  his  time  than  at  present ;  some- 
times in  one  shape,  sometimes  in  another.  Everybody 
in  Granada  has  heard  of  the  Belludo,  for  the  old  women 
and  the  nurses  frighten  the  children  with  it  when  they 
cry.  Some  say  it  is  the  spirit  of  a  cruel  Moorish  king, 
who  killed  his  six  sons  and  buried  them  in  these  vaults, 
and  that  they  hunt  him  at  nights  in  revenge." 

I  forbear  to  dwell  upon  the  marvellous  details  given  by 
the  simple-minded  Mateo  about  this  redoubtable  phan- 
tom, which  has,  in  fact,  been  time  out  of  mind  a  favorite 
theme  of  nursery  tales  and  popular  tradition  in  Granada, 
and  of  which  honorable  mention  is  made  by  an  ancient 
and  learned  historian  and  topographer  of  the  place. 

Leaving  this  eventful  pile,  we  continued  our  course, 
skirting  the  fruitful  orchards  of  the  Generalife,  in  which 
two  or  three  nightingales  were  pouring  forth  a  rich 
strain  of  melody.  Behind  these  orchards  we  passed  a 
number  of  Moorish  tanks,  with  a  door  cut  into  the  rocky 
bosom  of  the  hill,  but  closed  up.    These  tanks,  Mateo  in- 


THE  RA  VINE  OF  THE  JAR.  287 

formed  me,  were  favorite  bathing-places  of  himself  and 
his  comrades  in  boyhood,  until  frightened  away  by  a 
story  of  a  hideous  Moor,  who  used  to  issue  forth  from 
the  door  in  the  rock  to  entrap  unwary  bathers. 

Leaving  these  haunted  tanks  behind  us,  we  pursued 
our  ramble  up  a  solitary  mule-path  winding  among  the 
hills,  and  soon  found  ourselves  amidst  wild  and  melan- 
choly mountains,  destitute  of  trees,  and  here  and  there 
tinted  with  scanty  verdure.  Everything  within  sight  was 
severe  and  sterile,  and  it  was  scarcely  possible  to  realize 
the  idea  that  but  a  short  distance  behind  us  was  the 
Generalife,  with  its  blooming  orchards  and  terraced  gar- 
dens, and  that  we  were  in  the  vicinity  of  delicious  Gra- 
nada, that  city  of  groves  and  fountains.  But  such  is  the 
nature  of  Spain;  wild  and  stern  the  moment  it  escapes 
from  cultivation  ;  the  desert  and  the  garden  are  ever  side 
by  side. 

The  narrow  defile  up  which  we  were  passing  is  called, 
according  to  Mateo,  el  Barranco  de  la  tinaja,  or  the  ravine 
of  the  jar,  because  a  jar  full  of  Moorish  gold  was  found 
here  in  old  times.  The  brain  of  poor  Mateo  was  continu- 
ally running  upon  these  golden  legends. 

"  But  what  is  the  meaning  of  the  cross  I  see  yonder 
upon  a  heap  of  stones,  in  that  narrow  part  of  the  ravine  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that's  nothing — a  muleteer  was  murdered  there 
some  years  since." 

"So  then,  Mateo,  you  have  robbers  and  murderers 
even  at  the  gates  of  the  Alhambra?" 


288  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

"Not  at  present,  Senor ;  that  was  formerly,  when 
there  used  to  be  many  loose  fellows  about  the  fortress  ; 
but  they've  all  been  weeded  out.  Not  but  that  the  gyp- 
sies who  live  in  caves  in  the  hill-sides,  just  out  of  the 
fortress,  are  many  of  them  fit  for  anything  ;  but  we  have 
had  no  murder  about  here  for  a  long  time  past.  The 
man  who  murdered  the  muleteer  was  hanged  in  the 
fortress." 

Our  path  continued  up  the  barranco,  with  a  bold,  rug- 
ged height  to  our  left,  called  the  "  Silla  del  Moro,"  or 
Chair  of  the  Moor,  from  the  tradition  already  alluded  to, 
that  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  fled  thither  during  a  popu- 
lar insurrection,  and  remained  all  day  seated  on  the 
rocky  summit,  looking  mournfully  down  on  his  factious 
city. 

We  at  length  arrived  on  the  highest  part  of  the  pro- 
montory above  Granada,  called  the  mountain  of  the  sun. 
The  evening  was  approaching ;  the  setting  sun  just 
gilded  the  loftiest  heights.  Here  and  there  a  solitary 
shepherd  might  be  descried  driving  his  flock  down  the 
declivities,  to  be  folded  for  the  night ;  or  a  muleteer  and 
his  lagging  animals,  threading  some  mountain  path  to 
arrive  at  the  city  gates  before  nightfall. 

Presently  the  deep  tones  of  the  Cathedral  bell  came 
swelling  up  the  defiles,  proclaiming  the  hour  of  "ora- 
tion "  or  prayer.  The  note  was  responded  to  from  the 
belfry  of  every  church,  and  from  the  sweet  bells  of  the 
convents  among  the  mountains.     The  shepherd  paused 


SUBTERRANEAN  GAVERN8.  289 

on  the  fold  of  the  hill,  the  muleteer  in  the  midst  of  the 
road  ;  each  took  off  his  hat  a-nd  remained  motionless  for 
a  time,  murmuring  his  evening  prayer.  There  is  always 
something  pleasingly  solemn  in  this  custom,  by  which, 
at  a  melodious  signal,  every  human  being  throughout 
the  land  unites  at  the  same  moment  in  a  tribute  of 
thanks  to  God  for  the  mercies  of  the  day.  It  spreads  a 
transient  sanctity  over  the  land,  and  the  sight  of  the  sun 
sinking  in  all  his  glory  adds  not  a  little  to  the  solemnity 
of  the  scene. 

In  the  present  instance  the  effect  was  heightened  by 
the  wild  and  lonely  nature  of  the  place.  We  were  on 
the  naked  and  broken  summit  of  the  haunted  mountain 
of  the  sun,  v/here  ruined  tanks  and  cisterns,  and  the 
mouldering  foundations  of  extensive  buildings,  spoke  of 
former  populousness,  but  where  all  was  now  silent  and 
desolate. 

As  we  were  wandering  about  among  these  traces  of  old 
times,  we  came  to  a  circular  pit,  penetrating  deep  into 
the  bosom  of  the  mountain ;  which  Mateo  pointed  out  as 
one  of  the  wonders  and  mysteries  of  the  place.  I  sup- 
posed it  to  be  a  well  dug  by  the  indefatigable  Moors, 
to  obtain  their  favorite  element  in  its  greatest  purity. 
Mateo,  however,  had  a  different  story,  and  one  much 
more  to  his  humor.  According  to  a  tradition,  in  which 
his  father  and  grandfather  firmly  believed,  this  was  an 
entrance  to  the  subterranean  caverns  of  the  mountain,  in 
which  Boabdil  and  his  court  lay  bound  in  magic  spell  ; 


290  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

and  whence  they  sallied  forth  at  night,  at  allotted  times, 
to  revisit  their  ancient  abodes. 

"Ah,  Senor,  this  mountain  is  fnll  of  wonders  of  the 
kind.  In  another  place  there  was  a  hole  somewhat  like 
this,  and  just  within  it  hung  an  iron  pot  by  a  chain; 
nobody  knew  what  was  in  that  pot,  for  it  was  always 
covered  up  ;  but  everybody  supposed  it  full  of  Moorish 
gold.  Many  tried  to  draw  it  forth,  for  it  seemed  just 
within  reach ;  but  the  moment  it  was  touched  it  would 
sink  far,  far  down,  and  not  come  up  again  for  some  time. 
At  last  one  who  thought  it  must  be  enchanted  touched  it 
with  the  cross,  by  way  of  breaking  the  charm  ;  and  faith 
he  did  break  it,  for  the  pot  sank  out  of  sight  and  never 
was  seen  any  more. 

"  All  this  is  fact,  Senor ;  for  my  grandfather  was  an 
eye-witness." 

"  What !  Mateo  ;  did  he  see  the  pot  ?  " 

"  No,  Senor,  but  he  saw  the  hole  where  the  pot  had 
hung." 

"  It's  the  same  thing,  Mateo." 

The  deepening  twilight,  which  in  this  climate  is  of 
short  duration,  admonished  us  to  leave  this  haunted 
ground.  As  we  descended  the  mountain  defile,  there 
was  no  longer  herdsman  nor  muleteer  to  be  seen,  nor 
anything  to  be  heard  but  our  own  footsteps  and  the 
lonely  chirping  of  the  cricket.  The  shadows  of  the  val- 
ley grew  deeper  and  deeper,  until  all  was  dark  around 
us.     The  lofty  summit  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  alone  re- 


LIGHTS  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN.  29i 

tained  a  lingering  gleam  of  daylight ;  its  snowy  peaks 
glaring  against  the  dark  blue  firmament,  and  seeming 
close  to  us,  from  the  extreme  purity  of  the  atmosphere. 

"  How  near  the  Sierra  looks  this  evening ! "  said 
Mateo  ;  "  it  seems  as  if  you  could  touch  it  with  your 
hand ;  and  yet  it  is  many  long  leagues  off."  While  he 
was  speaking,  a  star  appeared  over  the  snowy  summit 
of  the  mountain,  the  only  one  yet  visible  in  the  heavens, 
and  so  pure,  so  large,  so  bright  and  beautiful,  as  to  call 
forth  ejaculations  of  delight  from  honest  Mateo. 

"  Que  estrella  hermosa  !  que  clara  y  limpia  es  ! — ^No 
pueda  ser  estrella  mas  brillante  !  " 

(What  a  beautiful  star!  how  clear  and  lucid — a  star 
could  not  be  more  brilliant !) 

I  have  often  remarked  this  sensibility  of  the  common 
people  of  Spain  to  the  charms  of  natural  objects.  The 
lustre  of  a  star,  the  beauty  or  fragrance  of  a  flower,  the 
crystal  purity  of  a  fountain,  will  inspire  them  with  a 
kind  of  poetical  delight;  and  then,  what  euphonious 
words  their  magnificent  language  affords,  with  which  to 
give  utterance  to  their  transports  ! 

"  But  what  lights  are  those,  Mateo,  which  I  see  twin- 
kling along  the  Sierra  Nevada,  just  below  the  snowy 
region,  and  which  might  be  taken  for  stars,  only  that 
they  are  ruddy,  and  against  th6  dark  side  of  the  moun- 
tain?" 

"  Those,  Senor,  are  fires,  made  by  the  men  who  gather 
snow  and  ice  for  the  supply  of  Granada.     They  go  up 


292  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

every  afternoon  witli  mules  and  asses,  and  take  turns, 
some  to  rest  and  warm  themselves  by  tlie  fires,  while 
others  fill  the  panniers  with  ice.  They  then  set  off  down 
the  mountains,  so  as  to  reach  the  gates  of  Granada  before 
sunrise.  That  Sierra  Nevada,  Sehor,  is  a  lump  of  ice  in 
the  middle  of  Andalusia,  to  keep  it  all  cool  in  summer." 

It  was  now  completely  dark  ;  we  were  passing  through 
the  barranco,  where  stood  the  cross  of  the  murdered 
muleteer,  when  I  beheld  a  number  of  lights  moving  at  a 
distance,  and  apparently  advancing  up  the  ravine.  On 
nearer  approach,  they  proved  to  be  torches  borne  by  a 
train  of  uncouth  figures  arrayed  in  black :  it  would  have 
been  a  procession  dreary  enough  at  any  time,  but  was 
peculiarly  so  in  this  wild  and  solitary  place. 

Mateo  drew  near,  and  told  me,  in  a  low  voice,  that  it 
was  a  funeral  train  bearing  a  corpse  to  the  burying- 
ground  among  the  hills. 

As  the  procession  passed  by,  the  lugubrious  light  of 
the  torches,  falling  on  the  rugged  features  and  funeral 
weeds  of  the  attendants,  had  the  most  fantastic  effect,  but 
was  perfectly  ghastly,  as  it  revealed  the  countenance  of 
the  corpse,  which,  according  to  the  Spanish  custom,  was 
borne  uncovered  on  an  open  bier.  I  remained  for  some 
time  gazing  after  the  dreary  train  as  it  wound  up  th© 
dark  defile  of  the  mountain.  It  put  me  in  mind  of  the 
old  story  of  a  procession  of  demons  bearing  the  body  of 
a  sinner  up  the  crater  of  Stromboli. 

"Ah!  Senor,"  cried  Mateo,  "I  could  tell  you  a  story 


TEE  PHANTOM  ABMT.  293 

of  a  procession  once  seen  among  these  mountains,  but 
then  you'd  laugh  at  me,  and  say  it  was  one  of  the  lega- 
cies of  mj  grandfather  the  tailor." 

"  By  no  means,  Mateo.  There  is  nothing  I  relish  more 
than  a  marvellous  tale." 

"Well,  Senor,  it  is  about  one  of  those  very  men  we 
have  been  talking  of,  who  gather  snow  on  the  Sierra  Ne- 
vada. 

"  Tou  must  know,  that  a  great  many  years  since,  in  my 
grandfather's  time,  there  was  an  old  fellow,  Tio  Nicolo 
[Uncle  Nicholas]  by  name,  who  had  filled  the  panniers  of 
his  mule  with  snow  and  ice,  and  was  returning  down  the 
mountain.  Being  very  drowsy,  he  mounted  upon  the 
mule,  and  soon  falling  asleep,  went  with  his  head  nod- 
ding and  bobbing  about  from  side  to  side,  while  his  sure- 
footed old  mule  stepped  along  the  edge  of  precipices,  and 
down  steep  and  broken  barrancos,  just  as  safe  and  steady 
as  if  it  had  been  on  plain  ground.  At  length  Tio  Nicolo 
awoke,  and  gazed  about  him,  and  rubbed  his  eyes — and, 
in  good  truth,  he  had  reason.  The  moon  shone  almost 
as  bright  as  day,  and  he  saw  the  city  below  him,  as  plain 
as  your  hand,  and  shining  with  its  white  buildings,  like  a 
silver  platter,  in  the  moonshine  ;  but.  Lord !  Senor,  it  was 
nothing  like  the  city  he  had  left  a  few  hours  before ! 
Instead  of  the  cathedral,  with  its  great  dome  and  tur- 
rets, and  the  churches  with  their  spires,  and  the  convents 
with  their  pinnacles,  all  surmounted  with  the  blessed 
cross,  he  saw  nothing  but  Moorish  mosques,  and  mina- 


294:  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

rets,  and  cupolas,  all  topped  off  with  glittering  crescents, 
such  as  jou  see  on  the  Barbary  flags.  Well,  Seiior,  as 
you  may  suppose,  Tio  Nicolo  was  mightily  puzzled  at  all 
this,  but  while  he  was  gazing  down  upon  the  city,  a  great 
army  came  marching  up  the  mountains,  winding  along 
the  ravines,  sometimes  in  the  moonshine,  sometimes  in 
the  shade.  As  it  drew  nigh,  he  saw  that  there  were  horse 
and  foot,  all  in  Moorish  armor.  Tio  Nicolo  tried  to 
scramble  out  of  their  way,  but  his  old  mule  stood  stock 
still,  and  refused  to  budge,  trembling,  at  the  same  time, 
like  a  leaf, — for  dumb  beasts,  Senor,  are  just  as  much 
frightened  at  such  things  as  human  beings.  "Well,  Senor, 
the  hobgoblin  army  came  marching  by ;  there  were  men 
that  seemed  to  blow  trumpets,  and  others  to  beat  drums 
and  strike  cymbals,  yet  never  a  sound  did  they  make  ; 
they  all  moved  on  without  the  least  noise,  just  as  I  have 
seen  painted  armies  move  across  the  stage  in  the  theatre 
of  Granada,  and  all  looked  as  pale  as  death.  At  last,  in 
the  rear  of  the  army,  between  two  black  Moorish  horse- 
men, rode  the  Grand  Inquisitor  of  Granada,  on  a  mule  as 
white  as  snow.  Tio  Nicolo  wondered  to  see  him  in  such 
company,  for  the  Inquisitor  was  famous  for  his  hatred  of 
Moors,  and,  indeed,  of  all  kinds  of  Infidels,  Jews,  and 
heretics,  and  used  to  hunt  them  out  with  fire  and 
scourge.  However,  Tio  Nicolo  felt  himself  safe,  now 
that  there  was  a  priest  of  such  sanctity  at  hand.  So 
making  the  sign  of  the  cross,  he  called  out  for  his  bene- 
diction, when,  hombre  !  he  received  a  blow  that  sent  him 


THE  PHANTOM  ARMT.  295 

and  his  old  mule  over  the  edge  of  a  steep  bank,  down 
which  they  rolled,  head-over-heels,  to  the  bottom  !  Tio 
Mcolo  did  not  come  to  his  senses  until  long  after  sun- 
rise, when  he  found  himself  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep 
ravine,  his  mule  grazing  beside  him,  and  his  panniers  of 
snow  completely  melted.  He  crawled  back  to  Granada 
sorely  bruised  and  battered,  but  was  glad  to  find  the  city 
looking  as  usual,  with  Christian  churches  and  crosses. 
When  he  told  the  story  of  his  night's  adventure,  every 
one  laughed  at  him  ;  some  said  he  had  dreamed  it  all,  as 
he  dozed  on  his  mule  ;  others  thought  it  all  a  fabrication 
of  his  own ;  but  what  was  strange,  Senor,  and  made  peo- 
ple afterwards  think  more  seriously  of  the  matter,  was, 
that  the  Grand  Inquisitor  died  within  the  year.  I  have 
often  heard  my  grandfather,  the  tailor,  say,  that  there 
was  more  meant  by  that  hobgoblin  army  bearing  off  the 
resemblance  of  the  priest,  than  folks  dared  to  surmise." 

"  Then  you  would  insinuate,  friend  Mateo,  that  there  is 
a  kind  of  Moorish  limbo,  or  purgatory,  in  the  bowels 
of  these  mountains,  to  which  the  padre  Inquisitor  was 
borne  off." 

"  God  forbid,  Senor !  I  know  nothing  of  the  matter. 
I  only  relate  what  I  heard  from  my  grandfather." 

By  the  time  Mateo  had  finished  the  tale,  which  I  have 
more  succinctly  related,  and  which  was  interlarded  with 
many  comments,  and  spun  out  with  minute  details,  we 
reached  the  gate  of  the  Alhambra. 

The   marvellous  stories  hinted  at  by  Mateo,  in  the 


296  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

early  part  of  our  ramble  about  the  Tower  of  the  Seven 
Floors,  set  me  as  usual  upon  my  goblin  researches.  I 
found  that  the  redoubtable  phantom,  the  Belludo,  had 
been  time  out  of  mind  a  favorite  theme  of  nursery  tales 
and  popular  traditions  in  Granada,  and  that  honorable 
mention  had  even  been  made  of  it  by  an  ancient  his- 
torian and  topographer  of  the  place.  The  scattered 
members  of  one  of  these  popular  traditions  I  have  gath- 
ered together,  collated  them  with  infinite  pains,  and  di- 
gested them  into  the  following  legend ;  which  only  wants 
a  number  of  learned  notes  and  references  at  bottom  to 
take  its  rank  among  those  concrete  productions  gravely 
passed  upon  the  world  for  Historical  Facts. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  MODE'S  LEGACY. 

UST  within  the  fortress  of  the  Alhambra,  in 
front  of  the  royal  palace,  is  a  broad  open  es- 
planade, called  the  Place  or  Square  of  the  Cis- 
terns, (la  Plaza  de  los  Algibes,)  so  called  from  being 
undermined  by  reservoirs  of  water,  hidden  from  sight, 
and  which  have  existed  from  the  time  of  the  Moors.  At 
one  corner  of  this  esplanade  is  a  Moorish  well,  cnt 
through  the  living  rock  to  a  great  depth,  the  water  of 
which  is  cold  as  ice  and  clear  as  crystal.  The  wells 
made  by  the  Moors  are  always  in  repute,  for  it  is  well 
known  what  pains  they  took  to  penetrate  to  the  purest 
and  sweetest  springs  and  fountains.  The  one  of  which 
we  now  speak  is  famous  throughout  Granada,  insomuch 
that  water-carriers,  some  bearing  great  water-jars  on 
their  shoulders,  others  driving  asses  before  them  laden 
with  earthen  vessels,  are  ascending  and  descending  the 
steep  woody  avenues  of  the  Alhambra,  from  early  dawn 
until  a  late  hour  of  the  night. 

Fountains  and  wells,  ever  since  the  scriptural  days, 
have  been  noted  gossiping-places  in  hot  climates  ;  and  at 
the  well  in  question  there  is  a  kind  of  perpetual  club 

397 


298  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

kept  up  during  the  livelong  day,  by  the  invalids,  old 
women,  and  other  curious  do-nothing  folk  of  the  fortress, 
who  sit  here  on  the  stone  benches,  under  an  awning 
spread  over  the  well  to  shelter  the  toll-gatherer  from  the 
sun,  and  dawdle  over  the  gossip  of  the  fortress,  and 
question  every  water-carrier  that  arrives  about  the  news 
of  the  city,  and  make  long  comments  on  everything  they 
hear  and  see.  Not  an  hour  of  the  day  but  loitering 
housewives  and  idle  maid-servants  may  be  seen,  linger- 
ing, with  pitcher  on  head  or  in  hand,  to  hear  the  last  of 
the  endless  tattle  of  these  worthies. 

Among  the  water-carriers  who  once  resorted  to  this 
well,  there  was  a  sturdy,  strong-backed,  bandy-legged 
little  fellow,  named  Pedro  Gil,  but  called  Peregil  for 
shortness.  Being  a  water-carrier,  he  was  a  Gallego,  or 
native  of  Gallicia,  of  course.  Nature  seems  to  have 
formed  races  of  men,  as  she  has  of  animals,  for  different 
kinds  of  drudgery.  In  France  the  shoeblacks  are  all  Sa- 
voyards, the  porters  of  hotels  all  Swiss,  and  in  the  days 
of  hoops  and  hair-powder  in  England,  no  man  could  give 
the  regular  swing  to  a  sedan-chair  but  a  bog-trotting 
Irishman.  So  in  Spain,  the  carriers  of  water  and  bear- 
ers of  burdens  are  all  sturdy  little  natives  of  Galli- 
cia. No  man  says,  "  Get  me  a  porte-t^ "  but,  "  Call  a  Gal- 
lego." 

To  return  from  this  digression,  Peregil  the  Gallego 
had  begun  business  with  merely  a  great  earthen  jar 
which  he  carried  upon  his  shoulder ;  by  degrees  he  rose 


THE    WATER   CARRIER. 


A  POOR  MAN'S  HELPMATE.  299 

in  the  world,  and  T/as  enabled  to  piircliase  an  assistant  of 
a  correspondent  class  of  animals,  being  a  stout  sliaggy- 
liaired  donkey.  On  each  side  of  this  his  long-eared  aide- 
de-camp,  in  a  kind  of  pannier,  were  slung  his  water-jars, 
covered  with  fig-leaves  to  protect  them  from  the  sun= 
There  was  not  a  more  industrious  water-carrier  in  all 
Granada,  nor  one  more  merry  withal.  The  streets  rang 
with  his  cheerful  voice  as  he  trudged  after  his  donkey, 
singing  forth  the  usual  summer  note  that  resounds 
through  the  Spanish  towns  :  "  Quien  quiere  agita — agua 
mas  fria  que  la  nieve?'' — "Who  wants  water — water 
colder  than  snow  ?  Who  wants  water  from  the  well  of 
the  Alhambra,  cold  as  ice  and  clear  as  crystal  ?  "  When 
he  served  a  customer  with  a  sparkling  glass,  it  was  al- 
ways with  a  pleasant  word  that  caused  a  smile ;  and  if, 
perchance,  it  was  a  comely  dame  or  dimpling  damsel,  it 
was  always  with  a  sly  leer  and  a  compliment  to  her 
beauty  that  was  irresistible.  Thus  Peregil  the  Gallego 
was  noted  throughout  all  Granada  for  being  one  of  the 
civilest,  pleasantest,  and  happiest  of  mortals.  Yet  it  is 
not  he  who  sings  loudest  and  jokes  most  that  has  the 
lightest  heart.  Under  all  this  air  of  merriment,  honest 
Peregil  had  his  cares  and  troubles.  He  had  a  large  fam- 
ily of  ragged  children  to  support,  who  were  hungry  and 
clamorous  as  a  nest  of  young  swallows,  and  beset  him 
with  their  outcries  for  food  whenever  he  came  home  of 
an  evening.  He  had  a  helpmate,  too,  who  was  anything 
but  a  help  to  him.     She  had  been  a  village  beauty  before 


300  ^^^  ALBAMBRA. 

marriage,  noted  for  her  skill  at  dancing  the  bolero  and 
rattling  the  castanets;  and  she  still  retained  her  early 
propensities,  spending  the  hard  earnings  of  honest  Pere- 
gil  in  frippery,  and  laying  the  very  donkey  under  requi- 
sition for  junketing  parties  into  the  country  on  Sundays 
and  saints'  days,  and  those  innumerable  holidays,  which 
are  rather  more  numerous  in  Spain  than  the  days  of  the 
week.  With  all  this  she  was  a  little  of  a  slattern,  some- 
thing more  of  a  lie-abed,  and,  above  all,  a  gossip  of  the 
first  water ;  neglecting  house,  household,  and  everything 
else,  to  loiter  slipshod  in  the  houses  of  her  gossip  neigh- 
bors. 

He,  however,  who  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb, 
accommodates  the  yoke  of  matrimony  to  the  submissive 
neck.  Peregil  bore  all  the  heavy  dispensations  of  wife 
and  children  with  as  meek  a  spirit  as  his  donkey  bore 
the  water-jars ;  and,  however  he  might  shake  his  ears  in 
private,  never  ventured  to  question  the  household  vir- 
tues of  his  slattern  spouse. 

He  loved  his  children,  too,  even  as  an  owl  loves  its 
owlets,  seeing  in  them  his  own  image  multiplied  and 
perpetuated;  for  they  were  a  sturdy,  long-backed,  bandy- 
legged little  brood.  The  great  pleasure  of  honest  Pere- 
gil was,  whenever  he  could  afford  himself  a  scanty  holi- 
day, and  had  a  handful  of  maravedis  to  spare,  to  take  the 
whole  litter  forth  with  him,  some  in  his  arms,  some  tug- 
ging at  his  skirts,  and  some  trudging  at  his  heels,  and  to 
treat  them  to  a  gambol  among  the  orchards  of  the  Vega, 


THE  WELL  OF  THE  ALHAMBBA.  301 

while  his  wife  was  dancing  with  her  holiday  friends  in 
the  Angosturas  of  the  Darro. 

It  was  a  late  hour  one  summer  night,  and  most  of  the 
water-carriers  had  desisted  from  their  toils.  The  day 
had  been  uncommonly  sultry ;  the  night  was  one  of  those 
delicious  moonlights  which  tempt  the  inhabitants  of 
southern  climes  to  indemnify  themselves  for  the  heat  and 
inaction  of  the  day,  by  lingering  in  the  open  air,  and  en- 
joying its  tempered  sweetness  until  after  midnight.  Cus- 
tomers for  water  were  therefore  still  abroad.  Peregil, 
like  a  considerate,  painstaking  father,  thought  of  his 
hungry  children.  "  One  more  journey  to  the  well,"  said 
he  to  himself,  "  to  earn  a  Sunday's  puchero  for  the  little 
ones."  So  saying,  he  trudged  manfully  up  the  steep 
avenue  of  the  Alhambra,  singing  as  he  went,  and  now 
and  then  bestowing  a  hearty  thwack  with  a  cudgel  on 
the  flanks  of  his  donkey,  either  by  way  of  cadence  to  the 
song,  or  refreshment  to  the  animal ;  for  dry  blows  serve 
in  lieu  of  provender  in  Spain  for  all  beasts  of  burden. 

When  arrived  at  the  well,  he  found  it  deserted  by 
every  one  except  a  solitary  stranger  in  Moorish  garb, 
seated  on  a  stone  bench  in  the  moonlight.  Peregil 
paused  at  first  and  regarded  him  with  surprise,  not  un- 
mixed with  awe,  but  the  Moor  feebly  beckoned  him  to 
approach.  "  I  am  faint  and  ill,"  said  he  ;  "  aid  me  to  re- 
turn to  the  city,  and  I  will  pay  thee  double  what  thou 
couldst  gain  by  thy  jars  of  water." 

The    honest    heart    of    the    little    water-carrier    was 


302  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

touclied  with  compassion  at  the  appeal  of  the  strangerc 
"  God  forbid,"  said  he,  "  that  I  should  ask  fee  or  reward 
for  doing  a  common  act  of  humanity."  He  accordingly 
helped  the  Moor  on  his  donkey,  and  set  off  slowly  for 
Granada,  the  poor  Moslem  being  so  weak  that  it  was 
necessary  to  hold  him  on  the  animal  to  keep  him  from 
falling  to  the  earth. 

When  they  entered  the  city,  the  water-carrier  demand- 
ed whither  he  should  conduct  him.  "  Alas !  "  said  the 
Moor,  faintly,  "  I  have  neither  home  nor  habitation ;  I  am 
a  stranger  in  the  land.  Suffer  me  to  lay  my  head  this 
night  beneath  thy  roof,  and  thou  shalt  be  amply  repaid." 

Honest  Peregil  thus  saw  himself  unexpectedly  saddled 
with  an  infidel  guest,  but  he  was  too  humane  to  refuse  a 
night's  shelter  to  a  fellow-being  in  so  forlorn  a  plight ;  so 
he  conducted  the  Moor  to  his  dwelling.  The  children, 
who  had  sallied  forth  open-mouthed  as  usual  on  hearing 
the  tramp  of  the  donkey,  ran  back  with  affright  when 
they  beheld  the  turbaned  stranger,  and  hid  themselves 
behind  their  mother.  The  latter  stepped  forth  intre- 
pidly, like  a  ruffling  hen  before  her  brood  when  a  va- 
grant dog  approaches. 

"What  infidel  companion,"  cried  she,  "is  this  you 
have  brought  home  at  this  late  hour,  to  draw  upon  us 
the  eyes  of  the  inquisition  ?  " 

"  Be  quiet,  wife,"  replied  the  Gallego ;  "  here  is  a  poor 
sick  stranger,  without  friend  or  home  ;  wouldst  thou  turn 
him  forth  to  perish  in  the  streets  ?  " 


THE  TUBBANED   GUEST.  303 

The  wife  would  still  have  remonstrated,  for  although 
she  lived  in  a  hovel,  she  was  a  furious  stickler  for  the 
credit  of  her  house  ;  the  little  water-carrier,  however, 
for  once  was  stiffnecked,  and  refused  to  bend  beneath 
the  yoke.  He  assisted  the  poor  Moslem  to  alight,  and 
spread  a  mat  and  a  sheep-skin  for  him,  on  the  grouna, 
in  the  coolest  part  of  the  house ;  being  the  only  kind  of 
bed  that  his  poverty  afforded. 

In  a  little  while  the  Moor  was  seized  with  violent  con- 
vulsions, which  defied  all  the  ministering  skill  of  the 
simple  water-carrier.  The  eye  of  the  poor  patient  ac- 
knowledged his  kindness.  During  an  interval  of  his  fits 
he  called  him  to  his  side,  and  addressing  him  in  a  low 
voice,  "  My  end,"  said  he,  ''  I  fear  is  at  hand.  If  I  die,  I 
bequeath  you  this  box  as  a  reward  for  your  charity  :  "  so 
saying,  he  opened  his  albornoz,  or  cloak,  and  showed  a 
small  box  of  sandal -wood,  strapped  round  his  body. 
"God  grant,  my  friend,"  replied  the  worthy  little  Gal- 
lego,  "  that  you  may  live  many  years  to  enjoy  your  treas- 
ure, whatever  it  may  be."  The  Moor  shook  his  head ; 
he  laid  his  hand  upon  the  box,  and  would  have  said 
something  more  concerning  it,  but  his  convulsions  re- 
turned with  increasing  violence,  and  in  a  little  while  he 
expired. 

The  water-carrier's  wife  was  now  as  one  distracted. 
"This  comes,"  said  she,  "of  your  foolish  good-nature, 
always  running  into  scrapes  to  oblige  others.  What  will 
become  of  us  when  this  corpse  is  found  in  our  house? 


304  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

We  shall  be  sent  to  prison  as  murderers;  and  if  we 
escape  with  our  lives,  shall  be  ruined  by  notaries  and 
alguazils." 

Poor  Peregil  was  in  equal  tribulation,  and  almost 
repented  himself  of  having  done  a  good  deed.  At  length 
a  thought  struck  him.  "It  is  not  yet  day,"  said  he;  "I 
can  convey  the  dead  body  out  of  the  city,  and  bury  it  in 
the  sands  on  the  banks  of  the  Xenil.  No  one  saw  the 
Moor  enter  our  dwelling,  and  no  one  will  know  anything 
of  his  death." 

So  said,  so  done.  The  wife  aided  him ;  they  rolled  the 
body  of  the  unfortunate  Moslem  in  the  mat  on  which  he 
had  expired,  laid  it  across  the  ass,  and  Peregil  set  out 
with  it  for  the  banks  of  the  river. 

As  ill  luck  would  have  it,  there  lived  opposite  to  the 
water-carrier  a  barber  named  Pedrillo  Pedrugo,  one  of 
the  most  prying,  tattling,  and  mischief-making  of  his  gos- 
sip tribe.  He  was  a  weasel-faced,  spider-legged  varlet, 
supple  and  insinuating ;  the  famous  barber  of  Seville 
could  not  surpass  him  for  his  universal  knowledge*  of  the 
affairs  of  others,  and  he  had  no  more  power  of  retention 
than  a  sieve.  It  was  said  that  he  slept  but  with  one  eye 
at  a  time,  and  kept  one  ear  uncovered,  so  that  even  in 
his  sleep  he  might  see  and  hear  all  that  was  going  on. 
Certain  it  is,  he  was  a  sort  of  scandalous  chronicle  for 
the  quidnuncs  of  Granada,  and  had  more  customers  than 
all  the  rest  of  his  fraternity. 

This  meddlesome  barber  heard  Peregil  arrive   at  an 


A  GOSSIP  BABBER.  305 

unusual  hour  at  night,  and  the  exclamations  of  his  wife 
and  children.  His  head  was  instantly  popped  out  of  a 
little  window  which  served  him  as  a  look-out,  and  he 
saw  his  neighbor  assist  a  man  in  Moorish  garb  into  his 
dwelling.  This  was  so  strange  an  occurrence,  tliafc  P3- 
drillo  Pedrugo  slept  not  a  wink  that  night.  Every  fire 
minutes  he  was  at  his  loophole,  watching  the  lights  that 
gleamed  through  the  chinks  of  his  neighbor's  door,  and 
before  daylight  he  beheld  Peregil  sally  forth  with  his 
donkey  unusually  laden. 

The  inquisitive  barber  was  in  a  fidget ;  he  slipped  on 
his  clothes,  and,  stealing  forth  silently,  followed  the 
water-carrier  at  a  distance,  until  he  saw  him  dig  a  hole 
in  the  sandy  bank  of  the  Xenil,  and  bury  something  that 
had  the  appearance  of  a  dead  body. 

The  barber  hied  him  home,  and  fidgeted  about  his 
shop,  setting  everything  upside  down,  until  sunrise.  He 
then  took  a  basin  under  his  arm,  and  sallied  forth  to  the 
house  of  his  daily  customer  the  alcalde. 

The  alcalde  was  just  risen.  Pedrillo  Pedrugo  seated 
him  in  a  chair,  threw  a  napkin  round  his  neck,  put  a 
basin  of  hot  water  under  his  chin,  and  began  to  mollify 
his  beard  with  his  fingers. 

"  Strange  doings  !  "  said  Pedrugo,  who  played  barber 
and  newsmonger  at  the  same  time, — "  strange  doings  ! 
Eobbery,  and  murder,  and  burial  all  in  one  night !  " 

"  Hey ! — how  ! — what  is  that  you  say  ?  "  cried  the  al- 
calde. 


306  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

"  I  say,"  replied  the  barber,  rubbing  a  piece  of  soap 
over  the  nose  and  mouth  of  the  dignitary,  for  a  Spanish 
barber  disdains  to  employ  a  brush, — "  I  say  that  Pere- 
gil  the  Gallego  has  robbed  and  murdered  a  Moorish 
Mussulman,  and  buried  him,  this  blessed  night,  llaldita 
sea  la  noche; — Accursed  be  the  night  for  the  same  !  " 

"  But  how  do  you  know  all  this  ?  "  demanded  the  al- 
calde. 

"  Be  patient,  Senor,  and  you  shall  hear  all  about  it," 
replied  Pedrillo,  taking  him  by  the  nose  and  sliding  a 
razor  over  his  cheek.  He  then  recounted  all  that  he  had 
seen,  going  through  both  operations  at  the  same  time, 
shaving  his  beard,  washing  his  chin,  and  wiping  him  dry 
with  a  dirty  napkin,  while  he  was  robbing,  murdering, 
and  burying  the  Moslem. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  this  alcalde  was  one  of  the 
most  overbearing,  and  at  the  same  time  most  griping  and 
corrupt  curmudgeons  in  all  Granada.  It  could  not  be 
denied,  however,  that  he  set  a  high  value  upon  justice, 
for  he  sold  it  at  its  weight  in  gold.  He  presumed  the 
case  in  point  to  be  one  of  murder  and  robbery  ;  doubtless 
there  must  be  a  rich  spoil ;  how  was  it  to  be  secured  into 
the  legitimate  hands  of  the  law  ?  for  as  to  merely  entrap- 
ping the  delinquent — that  would  be  feeding  the  gallows  ; 
but  entrapping  the  booty — that  would  be  enriching  the 
judge,  and  such,  according  to  his  creed,  was  the  great 
end  of  justice.  So  thinking,  he  summoned  to  his  pres- 
ence his  trustiest  alguazil — a  gaunt,  hungry-looking  var- 


A  LEGAL  BLOODHOUND.  307 

let,  clad,  according  to  the  custom  of  his  order,  in  the 
ancient  Spanish  garb,  a  broad  black  beaver  turned  up  at 
its  sides ;  a  quaint  ruff ;  a  small  black  cloak  dangling 
from  his  shoulders  ;  rusty  black  under-clothes  that  set 
off  his  spare  wiry  frame,  while  in  his  hand  he  bore  a 
slender  white  wand,  the  dreaded  insignia  of  his  office. 
Such  was  the  legal  bloodhound  of  the  ancient  Spanish 
breed,  that  he  put  upon  the  traces  of  the  unlucky  water- 
carrier,  and  such  was  his  speed  and  certainty,  that  he 
was  upon  the  haunches  of  poor  Peregil  before  he  had 
returned  to  his  dwelling,  and  brought  both  him  and  his 
donkey  before  the  dispenser  of  justice. 

The  alcalde  bent  upon  him  one  of  the  most  terrific 
frowns.  "Hark  ye,  culprit!  "  roared  he,  in  a  voice  that 
made  the  knees  of  the  little  Gallego  smite  together, — 
"  hark  ye,  culprit !  there  is  no  need  of  denying  thy  guilt, 
everything  is  known  to  me.  A  gallows  is  the  proper  re- 
ward for  the  crime  thou  hast  committed,  but  I  am  merci- 
ful, and  readily  listen  to  reason.  The  man  that  has  been 
murdered  in  thy  house  was  a  Moor,  an  infidel,  the  enemy 
of  our  faith.  It  was  doubtless  in  a  fit  of  religious  zeal 
that  thou  hast  slain  him.  I  will  be  indulgent,  therefore  ; 
render  up  the  property  of  which  thou  hast  robbed  him, 
and  Ave  will  hush  the  matter  up." 

The  poor  water-carrier  called  upon  all  the  saints  to 
witness  his  innocence ;  alas !  not  one  of  them  appeared ; 
and  if  they  had,  the  alcalde  would  have  disbelieved  the 
whole   calendar.      The  water-carrier  related  the  whole 


308  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

story  of  the  dying  Moor  with  the  straightforward  simpli^ 
city  of  truth,  but  it  was  all  in  vain.  "  Wilt  thou  persist 
in  saying,"  demanded  the  judge,  "  that  this  Moslem  had 
neither  gold  nor  jewels,  which  were  the  object  of  thy 
cupidity  ?  " 

"As  I  hope  to  be  saved,  your  worship,"  replied  the 
water-carrier,  "  he  had  nothing  but  a  small  box  of  sandal- 
wood, which  he  bequeathed  to  me  in  reward  for  my  ser- 
vices." 

"  A  box  of  sandal- wood !  a  box  of  sandal- wood !  "  ex- 
claimed the  alcalde,  his  eyes  sparkling  at  the  idea  of 
precious  jewels.  "  And  where  is  this  box  ?  where  have 
you  concealed  it  ?  " 

"  An'  it  please  your  grace,"  replied  the  water-carrier, 
"it  is  in  one  of  the  panniers  of  my  mule,  and  heartily  at 
the  service  of  your  worship." 

He  had  hardly  spoken  the  words,  when  the  keen  al- 
guazil  darted  off,  and  reappeared  in  an  instant  with  the 
mysterious  box  of  sandal-wood.  The  alcalde  opened  it 
with  an  eager  and  trembling  hand  ;  all  pressed  forward 
to  gaze  upon  the  treasure  it  was  expected  to  contain ; 
when,  to  their  disappointment,  nothing  appeared  within, 
but  a  parchment  scroll,  covered  with  Arabic  characters, 
and  an  end  of  a  waxen  taper. 

When  there  is  nothing  to  be  gained  by  the  conviction 
of  a  prisoner,  justice,  even  in  Spain,  is  apt  to  be  im- 
partial. The  alcalde,  having  recovered  from  his  disap- 
pointment, and  found  that  there  was  really  no  booty  in 


THE  BOX  OF  8ANDAL-W00D.  309 

tte  case,  now  listened  dispassionately  to  the  explanation 
of  the  water-carrier,  which  was  corroborated  by  the  tes- 
timony of  his  wife.  Being  convinced,  therefore,  of  his 
innocence,  he  discharged  him  from  arrest ;  nay  more,  he 
permitted  him  to  carry  off  the  Moor's  legacy,  the  box  of 
sandal-wood  and  its  contents,  as  the  well-merited  reward 
of  his  humanity ;  but  he  retained  his  donkey  in  payment 
of  costs  and  charges. 

Behold  the  unfortunate  little  Gallego  reduced  once 
more  to  the  necessity  of  being  his  own  water-carrier,  and 
trudging  up  to  the  well  of  the  Alhambra  with  a  great 
earthen  jar  upon  his  shoulder. 

As  he  toiled  up  the  hill  in  the  heat  of  a  summer  noon, 
his  usual  good -humor  forsook  him.  "Dog  of  an  al- 
calde !  "  would  he  cry,  "  to  rob  a  poor  man  of  the  means 
of  his  subsistence,  of  the  best  friend  he  had  in  the 
world !  "  And  then  at  the  remembrance  of  the  beloved 
companion  of  his  labors,  all  the  kindness  of  his  nature 
would  break  forth.  "  Ah,  donkey  of  my  heart !  "  would 
he  exclaim,  resting  his  burden  on  a  stone,  and  wiping  the 
sweat  from  his  brow, — "  ah,  donkey  of  my  heart !  I  war- 
rant me  thou  thinkest  of  thy  old  master !  I  warrant  me 
thou  missest  the  water-jars — poor  beast." 

To  add  to  his  afflictions,  his  wife  received  him,  on  his 
return  home,  with  whimperings  and  repinings;  she  had 
clearly  the  vantage-ground  of  him,  having  warned  him 
not  to  commit  the  egregious  act  of  hospitality  which 
had  brought  on  him  all  these   misfortunes  ;  and,  like   a 


310  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

knowing  woman,  she  took  every  occasion  to  throw  her 
superior  sagacity  in  his  teeth.  If  her  children  lacked 
food,  or  needed  a  new  garment,  she  could  answer  with  a 
sneer,  "  Go  to  your  father — he  is  heir  to  king  Chico  of 
the  Alhambra :  ask  him  to  help  you  out  of  the  Moor's 
strong  box." 

Was  ever  poor  mortal  so  soundly  punished  for  having 
done  a  good  action  ?  The  unlucky  Peregil  was  grieved 
in  flesh  and  spirit,  but  still  he  bore  meekly  with  the  rail- 
ings of  his  spouse.  At  length,  one  evening,  when,  after 
a  hot  day's  toil,  she  taunted  him  in  the  usual  manner,  he 
lost  all  patience.  He  did  not  venture  to  retort  upon  her, 
but  his  eye  rested  upon  the  box  of  sandal-wood,  which 
lay  on  a  shelf  with  lid  half  open,  as  if  laughing  in  mock- 
ery at  his  vexation.  Seizing  it  up,  he  dashed  it  with  in- 
dignation to  the  floor.  "Unlucky  was  the  day  that  I 
ever  set  eyes  on  thee,"  he  cried,  "  or  sheltered  thy  mas- 
ter beneath  my  roof !  " 

As  the  box  struck  the  floor,  the  lid  flew  wide  open, 
and  the  parchment  scroll  rolled  forth. 

Peregil  sat  regarding  the  scroll  for  some  time  in 
moody  silence.  At  length  rallying  his  ideas,  "  Who 
knows,"  thought  he,  "  but  this  writing  may  be  of  some 
importance,  as  the  Moor  seems  to  have  guarded  it  with 
such  care  ?  "  Picking  it  up  therefore,  he  put  it  in  his 
bosom,  and  the  next  morning,  as  he  was  crying  water 
through  the  streets,  he  stopped  at  the  shop  of  a  Moor, 
a  native   of  Tangiers,   who    sold   trinkets  and  perfum- 


PBBEOIL  AND   THE  MOOR.  SH 

ery  in  the  Zacatin,  and  asked  him  to  explain  the  con- 
tents. 

The  Moor  read  the  scroll  attentively,  then  stroked  his 
beard  and  smiled.  *'  This  manuscript,"  said  he,  "  is  a 
form  of  incantation  for  the  recovery  of  hidden  treasure 
that  is  under  the  power  of  enchantment.  It  is  said  to 
have  such  virtue  that  the  strongest  bolts  and  bars,  nay 
the  adamantine  rock  itself,  will  yield  before  it !  " 

"  Bah !  "  cried  the  little  Gallego,  "  what  is  all  that  to 
me?  I  am  no  enchanter,  and  know  nothing  of  buried 
treasure."  So  saying,  he  shouldered  his  water-jar,  left 
the  scroll  in  the  hands  of  the  Moor,  and  trudged  forward 
on  his  daily  rounds. 

That  evening,  however,  as  he  rested  himself  about 
twilight  at  the  well  of  the  Alhambra,  he  found  a  number 
of  gossips  assembled  at  the  place,  and  their  conversation, 
as  is  not  unusual  at  that  shadowy  hour,  turned  upon  old 
tales  and  traditions  of  a  supernatural  nature.  Being  all 
poor  as  rats,  they  dwelt  with  peculiar  fondness  upon  the 
popular  theme  of  enchanted  riches  left  by  the  Moors  in 
various  parts  of  the  Alhambra.  Above  all,  they  concur- 
red in  the  belief  that  there  were  great  treasures  buried 
deep  in  the  earth  under  the  tower  of  the  seven  floors. 

These  stories  made  an  unusual  impression  on  the 
mind  of  the  honest  Peregil,  and  they  sank  deeper  and 
deeper  into  his  thoughts  as  he  returned  alone  down  the 
darkling  avenues.  "  If,  after  all,  there  should  be  treas- 
ure hid  beneath  that  tower  ;  and  if  the  scroll  I  left  with 


312  THE  ALHAMBBA, 

the  Moor  should  enable  me  to  get  at  it !  "  In  the  sud- 
den ecstasy  of  the  thought  he  had  wellnigh  let  fall  his 
water-jar. 

That  night  he  tumbled  and  tossed,  and  could  scarcely 
get  a  wink  of  sleep  for  the  thoughts  that  were  bewilder- 
ing his  brain.  Bright  and  early  he  repaired  to  the  shop  of 
the  Moor,  and  told  him  all  that  was  passing  in  his  mind. 
"  You  can  read  Arabic,"  said  he ;  "  suppose  we  go  to- 
gether to  the  tower,  and  try  the  effect  of  the  charm ;  if  it 
fails,  we  are  no  worse  off  than  before  ;  but  if  it  succeeds, 
we  will  share  equally  all  the  treasure  we  may  discover." 

'*  Hold,"  replied  the  Moslem ;  *'  this  writing  is  not 
sufficient  of  itself ;  it  must  be  read  at  midnight,  by  the 
light  of  a  taper  singularly  compounded  and  prepared, 
the  ingredients  of  which  are  not  within  my  reach.  With- 
out such  a  taper  the  scroll  is  of  no  avail." 

"  Say  no  more  ! "  cried  the  little  Gallego ;  "  I  have 
such  a  taper  at  hand,  and  will  bring  it  here  in  a  mo- 
ment." So  saying,  he  hastened  home,  and  soon  returned 
with  the  end  of  yellow  wax  taper  that  he  had  found  in 
the  box  of  sandal-wood. 

The  Moor  felt  it  and  smelt  to  it.  "  Here  are  rare  and 
costly  perfumes,"  said  he,  "  combined  with  this  yellow 
wax.  This  is  the  kind  of  taper  specified  in  the  scroll. 
While  this  burns,  the  strongest  walls  and  most  secret 
caverns  will  remain  open.  Woe  to  him,  however,  who 
lingers  within  until  it  be  extinguished.  He  will  remain 
enchanted  with  the  treasure." 


THE  INCANTATION.  313 

It  was  now  agreed  between  them  to  try  the  charm  that 
very  night.  At  a  late  hour,  therefore,  when  nothing  was 
stirring  but  bats  and  owls,  they  ascended  the  woody  hill 
of  the  Alhambra,  and  approached  that  awful  tower, 
shrouded  by  trees  and  rendered  formidable  by  so 
many  traditionary  tales.  By  the  light  of  a  lantern  they 
groped  their  way  through  bushes,  and  over  fallen  stones, 
to  the  door  of  a  vault  beneath  the  tower.  With  fear  and 
trembling  they  descended  a  flight  of  steps  cut  into  the 
rock.  It  led  to  an  empty  chamber,  damp  and  drear, 
from  which  another  flight  of  steps  led  to  a  deeper  vault. 
In  this  way  they  descended  four  several  flights,  leading 
into  as  many  vaults,  one  below  the  other,  but  the  floor  of 
the  fourth  was  solid ;  and  though,  according  to  tradition, 
there  remained  three  vaults  still  below,  it  was  said  to  be 
impossible  to  penetrate  further,  the  residue  being  shut 
up  by  strong  enchantment.  The  air  of  this  vault  was 
damp  and  chilly,  and  had  an  earthy  smell,  and  the  light 
scarce  cast  forth  any  rays.  They  paused  here  for  a  time, 
in  breathless  suspense,  until  they  faintly  heard  the 
clock  of  the  watch-tower  strike  midnight ;  upon  this  they 
lit  the  waxen  taper,  which  diffused  an  odor  of  myrrh  and 
frankincense  and  storax. 

The  Moor  began  to  read  in  a  hurried  voice.  He  had 
scarce  finished  when  there  was  a  noise  as  of  subterrane- 
ous thunder.  The  earth  shook,  and  the  floor,  yawning 
open,  disclosed  a  flight  of  steps.  Trembling  with  awe, 
they  descended,  and  by  the  light  of  the  lantern  found 


3l4  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

themselves  in  another  vault  covered  with  Arabic  inscrip- 
tions. In  the  centre  stood  a  great  chest,  secured  with 
seven  bands  of  steel,  at  each  end  of  which  sat  an  en- 
chanted Moor  in  armor,  but  motionless  as  a  statue,  being 
controlled  by  the  power  of  the  incantation.  Before  the 
chest  were  several  jars  filled  with  gold  and  silver  and 
precious  stones.  In  the  largest  of  these  they  thrust 
their  arms  up  to  the  elbow,  and  at  every  dip  hauled 
forth  handfuls  of  broad  yellow  pieces  of  Moorish  gold,  or 
bracelets  and  ornaments  of  the  same  precious  metal, 
while  occasionally  a  necklace  of  Oriental  pearl  would 
stick  to  their  fingers.  Still  they  trembled  and  breathed 
short  while  cramming  their  pockets  with  the  spoils ;  and 
cast  many  a  fearful  glance  at  the  two  enchanted  Moors, 
who  sat  grim  and  motionless,  glaring  upon  them  with 
unwinking  eyes.  At  length,  struck  with  a  sudden  panic 
at  some  fancied  noise,  they  both  rushed  up  the  staircase, 
tumbled  over  one  another  into  the  upper  apartment, 
overturned  and  extinguished  the  waxen  taper,  and  the 
pavement  again  closed  with  a  thundering  sound. 

Filled  with  dismay,  they  did  not  pause  until  they  had 
groped  their  way  out  of  the  tower,  and  beheld  the  stars 
shining  through  the  trees.  Then  seating  themselves 
upon  the  grass,  they  divided  the  spoil,  determining  to 
content  themselves  for  the  present  with  this  mere  skim- 
ming of  the  jars,  but  to  return  on  some  future  night  and 
drain  them  to  the  bottom.  To  make  sure  of  each  other's 
good  faith,   also,   they   divided   the   talismans  between 


A  DISCREET  HUSBAND.  3I5 

them,  one  retaining  the  scroll  and  the  other  the  taper ; 
this  clone,  they  set  off  with  light  hearts  and  well-lined 
pockets  for  Granada. 

As  they  wended  their  way  down  the  hill,  the  shrewd 
Moor  whispered  a  word  of  counsel  in  the  ear  of  the  sim- 
ple little  water-carrier. 

"Friend  Peregil,"  said  he,  "all  this  affair  must  be 
kept  a  profound  secret  until  we  have  secured  the  trea^ 
sure,  and  conveyed  it  out  of  harm's  way.  If  a  whisper 
of  it  gets  to  the  ear  of  the  alcalde,  we  are  undone !  " 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  Gallego,  "  nothing  can  be 
more  true." 

"  Friend  Peregil,"  said  the  Moor,  "  you  are  a  discreet 
man,  and  I  make  no  doubt  can  keep  a  secret ;  but  you 
have  a  wife." 

"  She  shall  not  know  a  word  of  it,"  replied  the  little 
water-carrier,  sturdily. 

"Enough,"  said  the  Moor,  "  I  depend  upon  thy  discre- 
tion and  thy  promise." 

Never  was  promise  more  positive  and  sincere  ;  but. 
alas  !  what  man  can  keep  a  secret  from  his  wife  ?  Cer- 
tainly not  such  a  one  as  Peregil  the  water-carrier,  who 
was  one  of  the  most  loving  and  tractable  of  husbands. 
On  his  return  home,  he  found  his  wife  moping  in  a  cor- 
ner. "Mighty  well,"  cried  she  as  he  entered,  "you've 
come  at  last,  after  rambling  about  until  this  hour  of  the 
night.  I  wonder  you  have  not  brought  home  another 
Moor  as  a  house-mate."     Then  bursting  into  tears,  sh© 


316  THE  ALHAMBEA. 

began  to  wring  lier  hands  and  smite  her  breast,  "  Un- 
happy woman  that  I  am  !  "  exclaimed  she,  "  what  will 
become  of  me?  My  house  stripped  and  plundered  by 
lawyers  and  alguazils ;  my  husband  a  do-no-good,  that 
no  longer  brings  home  bread  to  his  family,  but  goes  ram- 
bling about  day  and  night,  with  infidel  Moors  !  O  my 
children !  my  children !  what  will  become  of  us  ?  We 
shall  all  have  to  beg  in  the  streets  !  " 

Honest  Peregil  was  so  moved  by  the  distress  of  his 
spouse,  that  he  could  not  help  whimpering  also.  His 
heart  was  as  full  as  his  pocket,  and  not  to  be  restrained. 
Thrusting  his  hand  into  the  latter  he  hauled  forth  three 
or  four  broad  gold  pieces,  and  slipped  them  into  her 
bosom.  The  poor  woman  stared  with  astonishment,  and 
could  not  understand  the  meaning  of  this  golden  shower. 
Before  she  could  recover  her  surprise,  the  little  Gallego 
drew  forth  a  chain  of  gold  and  dangled  it  before  her, 
capering  with  exultation,  his  mouth  distended  from  ear 
to  ear. 

"  Holy  Virgin  protect  us ! "  exclaimed  the  wife.  "What 
hast  thou  been  doing,  Peregil  ?  surely  thou  hast  not  been 
committing  murder  and  robbery !  " 

The  idea  scarce  entered  the  brain  of  the  poor  woman, 
than  it  became  a  certainty  with  her.  She  saw  a  prison 
and  a  gallows  in  the  distance,  and  a  little  bandy-legged 
Gallego  hanging  pendent  from  it ;  and,  overcome  by  the 
horrors  conjured  up  by  imagination,  fell  into  violent  hys- 
terics. 


A  DISCBEET  HUSBAND,  317 

What  could  the  poor  man  do  ?  He  had  no  other  means 
of  pacifying  his  wife,  and  dispelling  the  phantoms  of  her 
fancy,  than  by  relating  the  whole  story  of  his  good  for- 
tune. This,  however,  he  did  not  do  until  he  had  exacted 
from  her  the  most  solemn  promise  to  keep  it  a  profound 
secret  from  every  living  being. 

To  describe  her  joy  would  be  impossible.  She  flung 
her  arms  round  the  neck  of  her  husband,  and  almost 
strangled  him  with  her  caresses.  "Now,  wife,"  ex- 
claimed the  little  man  with  honest  exultation,  "  what  say 
you  now  to  the  Moor's  legacy  ?  Henceforth  never  abuse 
me  for  helping  a  fellow-creature  in  distress." 

The  honest  Gallego  retired  to  his  sheep-skin  mat,  and 
slept  as  soundly  as  if  on  a  bed  of  down.  Not  so  his 
wife  ;  she  emptied  the  whole  contents  of  his  pockets 
upon  the  mat,  and  sat  counting  gold  pieces  of  Arabic 
coin,  trying  on  necklaces  and  earrings,  and  fancying  the 
figure  she  should  one  day  make  when  permitted  to  enjoy 
her  riches. 

On  the  following  morning  the  honest  Gallego  took  a 
broad  golden  coin,  and  repaired  with  it  to  a  jeweller's 
shop  in  the  Zacatin  to  offer  it  for  sale,  pretending  to 
have  found  it  among  the  ruins  of  the  Alhambra.  The 
jeweller  saw  that  it  had  an  Arabic  inscription,  and  was 
of  the  purest  gold ;  he  offered,  however,  but  a  third  of 
its  value,  with  which  the  water-carrier  was  perfectly  con- 
tent. Peregil  now  bought  new  clothes  for  his  little  flock, 
and  all  kinds  of  toys,  together  with  ample  provisions  for 


318  TEE  ALEAMBBA, 

a  hearty  meal,  and  returning  to  his  dwelling,  set  all  his 
children  dancing  around  him,  while  he  capered  in  the 
midst,  the  happiest  of  fathers. 

The  wife  of  the  water-carrier  kept  her  promise  of  se- 
crecy with  surprising  strictness.  For  a  whole  day  and 
a  half  she  went  about  with  a  look  of  mystery  and  a  heart 
swelling  almost  to  bursting,  yet  she  held  her  peace, 
though  surrounded  by  her  gossips.  It  is  true,  she  could 
not  help  giving  herself  a  few  airs,  apologized  for  her 
ragged  dress,  and  talked  of  ordering  a  new  basquina  all 
trimmed  with  gold  lace  and  bugles,  and  a  new  lace  man- 
tilla. She  threw  out  hints  of  her  husband's  intention  of 
leaving  off  his  trade  of  water-carrying,  as  it  did  not  alto- 
gether agree  with  his  health.  In  fact  she  thought  they 
should  all  retire  to  the  country  for  the  summer,  that  the 
children  might  have  the  benefit  of  the  mountain  air,  for 
there  was  no  living  in  the  city  in  this  sultry  season. 

The  neighbors  stared  at  each  other,  and  thought  the 
poor  woman  had  lost  her  wits ;  and  her  airs  and  graces 
and  elegant  pretensions  were  the  theme  of  universal 
scoffing  and  merriment  among  her  friends,  the  moment 
her  back  was  turned. 

If  she  restrained  herself  abroad,  however,  she  indemni- 
fied herself  at  home,  and  putting  a  string  of  rich  Oriental 
pearls  round  her  neck,  Moorish  bracelets  on  her  arms, 
and  an  aigrette  of  diamonds  on  her  head,  sailed  back- 
wards and  forwards  in  her  slattern  rags  about  the  room, 
now  and  then  stopping  to  admire  herself  in  a  broken 


THE  8EGBET  BLOWN.  319 

mirror.  Nay,  in  the  impulse  of  her  simple  vanity,  she 
could  not  resist,  on  one  occasion,  showing  herself  at  the 
window  to  enjoy  the  effect  of  her  finery  on  the  passers-by. 

As  the  fates  would  have  it,  Pedrillo  Pedrugo,  the 
meddlesome  barber,  was  at  this  moment  sitting  idly  in 
his  shop  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  when  his 
ever-watchful  eye  caught  the  sparkle  of  a  diamond.  In 
an  instant  he  was  at  his  loophole  reconnoitring  the  slat- 
tern spouse  of  the  water-carrier,  decorated  with  the 
splendor  of  an  eastern  bride.  No  sooner  had  he  taken 
an  accurate  inventory  of  her  ornaments,  than  he  posted 
off  with  all  speed  to  the  alcalde.  In  a  little  while  the 
hungry  alguazil  was  again  on  the  scent,  and  before  the 
day  was  over  the  unfortunate  Peregil  was  once  more 
dragged  into  the  presence  of  the  judge. 

"  How  is  this,  villain !  "  cried  the  alcalde,  in  a  furious 
voice.  "  You  told  me  that  the  infidel  who  died  in  your 
house  left  nothing  behind  but  an  empty  coffer,  and  now  I 
hear  of  your  wife  flaunting  in  her  rags  decked  out  with 
pearls  and  diamonds.  Wretch  that  thou  art !  prepare  to 
render  up  the  spoils  of  thy  miserable  victim,  and  to 
swing  on  the  gallows  that  is  already  tired  of  waiting  for 
thee." 

The  terrified  water-carrier  fell  on  his  knees,  and  made 
a  full  relation  of  the  marvellous  manner  in  which  he  had 
gained  his  wealth.  The  alcalde,  the  alguazil,  and  the  in- 
quisitive barber  listened  with  greedy  ears  to  this  Arabian 
tale  of  enchanted  treasure.     The  alguazil  was  dispatched 


320  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

to  bring  the  Moor  who  had  assisted  in  the  incantation. 
The  Moslem  entered  half  frightened  out  of  his  wits  at 
finding  himself  in  the  hands  of  the  harpies  of  the  law. 
When  he  beheld  the  water-carrier  standing  with  sheepish 
looks  and  downcast  countenance,  he  comprehended  the 
whole  matter.  "  Miserable  animal,"  said  he,  as  he  passed 
near  him,  "  did  I  not  warn  thee  against  babbling  to  thy 
wife?" 

The  story  of  the  Moor  coincided  exactly  with  that  of 
his  colleague ;  but  the  alcalde  affected  to  be  slow  of 
belief,  and  threw  out  menaces  of  imprisonment  and  rigor- 
ous investigation. 

*' Softly,  good  Senor  Alcalde,"  said  the  Mussulman, 
who  by  this  time  had  recovered  his  usual  shrewdness 
and  self-possession.  "  Let  us  not  mar  fortune's  favors  in 
the  scramble  for  them.  Nobody  knows  anything  of  this 
matter  but  ourselves ;  let  us  keep  the  secret.  There  is 
wealth  enough  in  the  cave  to  enrich  us  all.  Promise  a 
fair  division,  and  all  shall  be  produced ;  refuse,  and  the 
cave  shall  remain  forever  closed." 

The  alcalde  consulted  apart  with  the  alguazil.  The 
latter  was  an  old  fox  in  his  profession.  "  Promise  any- 
thing," said  he,  "  until  you  get  possession  of  the  treasure. 
You  may  then  seize  upon  the  whole,  and  if  he  and  his 
accomplice  dare  to  murmur,  threaten  them  with  the  fagot 
and  the  stake  as  infidels  and  sorcerers." 

The  alcalde  relished  the  advice.  Smoothing  his  brow 
and  turning  to  the  Moor,  *'  This  is  a  strange  story,"  said 


THE  TREASURE.  321 

he,  "  and  may  be  true,  but  I  must  have  ocular  proof  of  it. 
This  very  night  you  must  repeat  the  incantation  in  my 
presence.  If  there  be  really  such  treasure,  we  will  share 
it  amicably  between  us,  and  say  nothing  further  of  the 
matter ;  if  ye  have  deceived  me,  expect  no  mercy  at  my 
hands.     In  the  meantime  you  must  remain  in  custody." 

The  Moor  and  the  water-carrier  cheerfully  agreed  to 
these  conditions,  satisfied  that  the  event  would  prove  the 
truth  of  their  words. 

Towards  midnight  the  alcalde  sallied  forth  secretly, 
attended  by  the  alguazil  and  the  meddlesome  barber,  all 
strongly  armed.  They  conducted  the  Moor  and  the  wa- 
ter-carrier as  prisoners,  and  were  provided  with  the  stout 
donkey  of  the  latter  to  bear  off  the  expected  treasure. 
They  arrived  at  the  tower  without  being  observed,  and 
tying  the  donkey  to  a  fig-tree,  descended  into  the  fourth 
vault  of  the  tower. 

The  scroll  was  produced,  the  yellow  waxen  taper 
lighted,  and  the  Moor  read  the  form  of  incantation.  The 
earth  trembled  as  before,  and  the  pavement  opened  with 
a  thundering  sound,  disclosing  the  narrow  flight  of  steps. 
The  alcalde,  the  alguazil,  and  the  barber  were  struck 
aghast,  and  could  not  summon  courage  to  descend.  The 
Moor  and  the  water-carrier  entered  the  lower  vault,  and 
found  the  two  Moors  seated  as  before,  silent  and  motion- 
less. They  removed  two  of  the  great  jars,  filled  with 
golden  coin  and  precious  stones.     The  water-carrier  bore 

them  up  one  by  one  upon  his  shoulders,  but  though  a 
21 


322  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

strong-backed  little  man,  and  accustomed  to  carry  bur- 
dens, lie  staggered  beneath  tlieir  weight,  and  found,  when 
slung  on  each  side  of  his  donkey,  they  were  as  much  as 
the  animal  could  bear. 

"  Let  us  be  content  for  the  present,"  said  the  Moor ; 
"here  is  as  much  treasure  as  we  can  carry  off  without 
being  perceived,  and  enough  to  make  us  all  wealthy  to 
our  heart's  desire." 

"  Is  there  more  treasure  remaining  behind?"  demanded 
the  alcalde. 

"The  greatest  prize  of  all,"  said  the  Moor,  "a  huge 
coffer  bound  with  bands  of  steel,  and  filled  with  pearls 
and  precious  stones." 

"Let  us  have  up  the  coffer  by  all  means,"  cried  the 
grasping  alcalde. 

"  I  will  descend  for  no  more,"  said  the  Moor,  doggedly ; 
"  enough  is  enough  for  a  reasonable  man — more  is  super- 
fluous." 

"  And  I,"  said  the  water-carrier,  "  will  bring  up  no  fur- 
ther burden  to  break  the  back  of  my  poor  donkey." 

Finding  commands,  threats,  and  entreaties  equally 
vain,  the  alcalde  turned  to  his  two  adherents.  "Aid 
me,"  said  he,  "  to  bring  up  the  coffer,  and  its  contents 
shall  be  divided  between  us."  So  saying,  he  descended 
the  steps,  followed  with  trembling  reluctance  by  the 
alguazil  and  the  barber. 

No  sooner  did  the  Moor  behold  them  fairly  earthed 
than  he  extinguished  the  yellow   taper;  the   pavement 


THE  CATA8TB0PHE.  323 

closed  with  its  usual  crash,  and  the  three  worthies 
remained  buried  in  its  v/omb. 

He  then  hastened  up  the  different  flight  of  steps,  nor 
stopped  until  in  the  open  air.  The  little  water-carrier 
followed  him  as  fast  as  his  short  legs  would  permit. 

"What  hast  thou  done?"  cried  Peregil,  as  soon  as  he 
could  recover  breath.  "The  alcalde  and  the  other  two 
are  shut  up  in  the  vault." 

"It  is  the  will  of  Allah  !  "  said  the  Moor,  devoutly. 

"And  will  you  not  release  them?  "  demanded  the  Gal- 
lego. 

"  Allah  forbid  !  "  replied  the  Moor,  smoothing  his 
beard.  "  It  is  written  in  the  book  of  fate  that  they  shall 
remain  enchanted  until  some  future  adventurer  arrive  to 
break  the  charm.  The  will  of  God  be  done  !  "  so  saying, 
he  hurled  the  end  of  the  waxen  taper  far  among  the 
gloomy  thickets  of  the  glen. 

There  was  now  no  remedy ;  so  the  Moor  and  the  water- 
carrier  proceeded  with  the  richly  laden  donkey  toward 
the  city,  nor  could  honest  Peregil  refrain  from  hugging 
and  kissing  his  long-eared  fellow-laborer,  thus  restored 
to  him  from  the  clutches  of  the  law;  and,  in  fact,  it  is 
doubtful  which  gave  the  simple-hearted  little  man  most 
joy  at  the  moment,  the  gaining  of  the  treasure,  or  the  re- 
covery of  the  donkey. 

The  two  partners  in  good  luck  divided  their  spoil 
amicably  and  fairly,  except  that  the  Moor,  who  had  a 
little  taste  for  trinketry,  made  out  to  get  into  his  heap 


324  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

the  most  of  the  pearls  and  precious  stones  and  other 
baubles,  but  then  he  always  gave  the  water-carrier  in  lieu 
magnificent  jewels  of  massy  gold,  of  fi.YQ  times  the  size, 
with  which  the  latter  was  heartily  content.  They  took 
care  not  to  linger  within  reach  of  accidents,  but  made  off 
to  enjoy  their  wealth  undisturbed  in  other  countries.  The 
Moor  returned  to  Africa,  to  his  native  city  of  Tangiers, 
and  the  Gallego,  with  his  wife,  his  children,  and  his  don- 
key, made  the  best  of  his  way  to  Portugal.  Here,  under 
the  admonition  and  tuition  of  his  wife,  he  became  a  per- 
sonage of  some  consequence,  for  she  made  the  worthy 
little  man  array  his  long  body  and  short  legs  in  doublet 
and  hose,  with  a  feather  in  his  hat  and  a  sword  by  his 
side,  and  laying  aside  his  familiar  appellation  of  Peregil, 
assume  the  more  sonorous  title  of  Don  Pedro  Gil :  his 
progeny  grew  up  a  thriving  and  merry-hearted,  though 
short  and  bandy-legged  generation,  while  Senora  Gil, 
befringed,  belaced,  and  betasselled  from  her  head  to  her 
heels,  with  glittering  rings  on  every  finger,  became  a 
model  of  slattern  fashion  and  finery. 

As  to  the  alcalde  and  his  adjuncts,  they  remained  shut 
up  under  the  great  tower  of  the  seven  floors,  and  there 
they  remain  spellbound  at  the  present  day.  Whenever 
there  shall  be  a  lack  in  Spain  of  pimping  barbers,  shark- 
ing alguazils,  and  corrupt  alcaldes,  they  may  be  sought 
after ;  but  if  they  have  to  wait  until  such  time  for  their 
deliverance,  there  is  danger  of  their  enchantment  endur- 
ing until  doomsday. 


THE    TOWER    OF    LAS    INFANTAS 

N  an  evening's  stroll  up  a  narrow  glen,  overshad- 
owed by  fig-trees,  pomegranates,  and  myrtles, 
which  divides  the  lands  of  the  fortress  from 
those  of  the  Generalife,  I  was  struck  with  the  romantic 
appearance  of  a  Moorish  tower  in  the  outer  wall  of  the 
Alhambra,  rising  high  above  the  tree-tops,  and  catching 
the  ruddy  rays  of  the  setting  sun.  A  solitary  window  at 
a  great  height  commanded  a  view  of  the  glen ;  and  as  I 
was  regarding  it,  a  young  female  looked  out,  with  her 
head  adorned  with  flowers.  She  was  evidently  superior 
to  the  usual  class  of  people  inhabiting  the  old  towers  of 
the  fortress ;  and  this  sudden  and  picturesque  glimpse  of 
her  reminded  me  of  the  descriptions  of  captive  beauties 
in  fairy  tales.  These  fanciful  associations  were  increased 
on  being  informed  by  my  attendant  Mateo,  that  this  was 
the  Tower  of  the  Princesses  (La  Torre  de  las  Infantas) ; 
so  called,  from  having  been,  according  to  tradition,  the 
residence  of  the  daughters  of  the  Moorish  kings.  I  have 
since  visited  the  tower.  It  is  not  generally  shown  to 
strangers,  though  well  worthy  of  attention,  for  the  inte- 
rior is  equal,  for  beauty  of  architecture  and  delicacy  of 
ornament,  to  any  part  of  the  palace.  The  elegance  of 
the  central  hall,  with  its  marble  fountain,  its  lofty  arches, 


326  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  richly  fretted  dome ;  the  arabesques  and  stucco-work 
of  the  small  but  well-proportioned  chambers,  though  in- 
jured by  time  and  neglect,  all  accord  with  the  story  of  its 
being  anciently  the  abode  of  royal  beauty. 

The  little  old  fairy  queen  who  lives  under  the  stair- 
case of  the  Alhambra,  and  frequents  the  evening  tertulias 
of  Dame  Antonia,  tells  some  fanciful  traditions  about 
three  Moorish  princesses  who  were  once  shut  up  in  this 
tower  by  their  father,  a  tyrant  king  of  Granada,  and 
were  only  permitted  to  ride  out  at  night  about  the  hills, 
when  no  one  was  permitted  to  come  in  their  way  under 
pain  of  death.  They  still,  according  to  her  account,  may 
be  seen  occasionally  when  the  moon  is  in  the  full,  riding 
in  lonely  places  along  the  mountain-side,  on  palfreys 
richly  caparisoned  and  sparkling  with  jewels,  but  they 
vanish  on  being  spoken  to. 

But  before  I  relate  anything  further  respecting  these 
princesses,  the  reader  may  be  anxious  to  know  some- 
thing about  the  fair  inhabitant  of  the  tov/er,  v/ith  her 
head  dressed  with  flowers,  who  looked  out  from  the  lofty 
window.  She  proved  to  be  the  newly  married  spouse 
of  the  worthy  adjutant  of  invalids  ;  who,  though  well 
stricken  in  years,  had  had  the  courage  to  take  to  his 
bosom  a  young  and  buxom  Andalusian  damsel.  May  the 
good  old  cavalier  be  happy  in  his  choice,  and  find  the 
Tower  of  the  Princesses  a  more  secure  residence  for 
female  beauty  than  it  seems  to  have  proved  in  the  time 
of  the  Moslems,  if  we  may  believe  the  following  legend  ! 


LEGEND   OF  THE  THREE   BEAUTIFUL 

PEINCESSES. 


N  old  times  there  reigned  a  Moorish  king  in 
Granada,  whose  name  was  Mohamed,  to  which 
his  subjects  added  the  appellation  of  El  Hay- 
zari,  or  "The  Left-handed."  Some  say  he  was  so  called 
on  account  of  his  being  really  more  expert  with  his  sinis- 
ter than  his  dexter  hand ;  others,  because  he  was  prone 
to  take  everything  by  the  wrong  end,  or,  in  other  words, 
to  mar  wherever  he  meddled.  Certain  it  is,  either 
through  misfortune  or  mismanagement,  he  was  continu- 
ally in  trouble  :  thrice  was  he  driven  from  his  throne, 
and  on  one  occasion  barely  escaped  to  Africa  with  his 
life,  in  the  disguise  of  a  fisherman."^  Still  he  was  as 
brave  as  he  was  blundering ;  and  though  left-handed, 
wielded  his  cimeter  to  such  purpose,  that  he  each  time 
reestablished  himself  upon  his  throne  by  dint  of  hard 
fighting.  Instead,  however,  of  learning  wisdom  from 
adversity,  he  hardened  his  neck,  and  stiffened  his  left 

*  The  reader  will  recognize  the  sovereign  connected  with  the  fortunes 
of  the  Abencerrages.  His  story  appears  to  be  a  little  Actionized  in  the 
legend. 

337 


328  THE  alhambbA. 

arm  in  wilfulness.  The  evils  of  a  public  nature  whicli  he 
thus  brought  upon  himself  and  his  kingdom  may  be 
learned  by  those  who  will  delve  into  the  Arabian  annals 
of  Granada ;  the  present  legend  deals  but  with  his  do- 
mestic policy. 

As  this  Mohamed  was  one  day  riding  forth  with  a  train 
of  his  courtiers,  by  the  foot  of  the  mountain  of  Elvira, 
he  met  a  band  of  horsemen  returning  from  a  foray  into 
the  land  of  the  Christians.  They  were  conducting  a  long 
string  of  mules  laden  with  spoil,  and  many  captives  of 
both  sexes,  among  whom  the  monarch  was  struck  with 
the  appearance  of  a  beautiful  damsel,  richly  attired,  who 
sat  weeping  on  a  low  palfrey,  and  heeded  not  the  consol- 
ing words  of  a  duenna  who  rode  beside  her. 

The  monarch  was  struck  with  her  beauty,  and,  on  in- 
quiring of  the  captain  of  the  troop,  found  that  she  was 
the  daughter  of  the  alcayde  of  a  frontier  fortress,  that 
had  been  surprised  and  sacked  in  the  course  of  the  foray. 
Mohamed  claimed  her  as  his  royal  share  of  the  booty, 
and  had  her  conveyed  to  his  harem  in  the  Alhambra. 
There  everything  was  devised  to  soothe  her  melancholy ; 
and  the  monarch,  more  and  more  enamored,  sought  to 
make  her  his  queen.  The  Spanish  maid  at  first  repulsed 
his  addresses :  he  was  an  infidel ;  he  was  the  open  foe  of 
her  country ;  what  was  worse,  he  was  stricken  in  years ! 

The  monarch,  finding  his  assiduities  of  no  avail,  deter- 
mined to  enlist  in  his  favor  the  duenna,  who  had  been 
captured  with   the   lady.     She   was   an  Andalusian  by 


THE  DI8CREET  KADIGA.  329 

birth,  whose  Christian  name  is  forgotten,  being  men- 
tioned in  Moorish  legends  by  no  other  appellation  than 
that  of  the  discreet  Kadiga;  and  discreet  in  truth  she 
was,  as  her  whole  history  makes  evident.  No  sooner  had 
the  Moorish  king  held  a  little  private  conversation  with 
her,  than  she  saw  at  once  the  cogency  of  his  reasoning, 
and  undertook  his  cause  with  her  young  mistress. 

"  Go  to,  now ! "  cried  she  ;  "  what  is  there  in  all  this  to 
weep  and  wail  about  ?  Is  it  not  better  to  be  mistress  of 
this  beautiful  palace,  with  all  its  gardens  and  fountains, 
than  to  be  shut  up  within  your  father's  old  frontier 
tower?  As  to  this  Mohamed  being  an  infidel,  what  is 
that  to  the  purpose  ?  You  marry  him,  not  his  religion ; 
and  if  he  is  waxing  a  little  old,  the  sooner  will  you  be  a 
widow,  and  mistress  of  yourself ;  at  any  rate,  you  are  in 
his  power,  and  must  either  be  a  queen  or  a  slave.  When 
in  the  hands  of  a  robber,  it  is  better  to  sell  one's  mer- 
chandise for  a  fair  price,  than  to  have  it  taken  by  main 
force." 

The  arguments  of  the  discreet  Kadiga  prevailed.  The 
Spanish  lady  dried  her  tears,  and  became  the  spouse  of 
Mohamed  the  Left-handed;  she  even  conformed,  in  ap- 
pearance, to  the  faith  of  her  royal  husband ;  and  her  dis- 
creet duenna  immediately  became  a  zealous  convert  to 
the  Moslem  doctrines  :  it  was  then  the  latter  received  the 
Arabian  name  of  Kadiga,  and  was  permitted  to  remain  in 
the  confidential  employ  of  her  mistress. 

In  due  process  of  time  the  Moorish  king  was  made  the 


330  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

proud  and  liappy  father  of  three  lovely  daughters,  all 
born  at  a  birth:  he  could  have  wished  they  had  been 
sons,  but  consoled  himself  with  the  idea  that  three 
daughters  at  a  birth  were  pretty  well  for  a  man  some- 
what stricken  in  years,  and  left-handed ! 

As  usual  with  all  Moslem  monarchs,  he  summoned  his 
astrologers  on  this  liappy  event.  They  cast  the  nativ- 
ities of  the  three  princesses,  and  shook  their  heads. 
"Daughters,  O  king!"  said  they,  "are  always  precarious 
property;  but  these  will  most  need  your  watchfulness 
when  they  arrive  at  a  marriageable  age ;  at  that  time 
gather  them  under  your  wings,  and  trust  them  to  no 
other  guardianship." 

Mohamed  the  Left-handed  was  acknowledged  to  be  a 
wise  king  by  his  courtiers,  and  was  certainly  so  con- 
sidered by  himself.  The  prediction  of  the  astrologers 
caused  him  but  little  disquiet,  trusting  to  his  ingenuity 
to  guard  his  daughters  and  outwit  the  Fates. 

The  threefold  birth  was  the  last  matrimonial  trophy 
of  the  monarch ;  his  queen  bore  him  no  more  children, 
and  died  within  a  few  years,  bequeathing  her  infant 
daughters  to  his  love,  and  to  the  fidelity  of  the  discreet 
Kadiga. 

Many  years  had  yet  to  elapse  before  the  princesses 
would  arrive  at  that  period  of  danger — the  marriageable 
age.  "It  is  good,  however,  to  be  cautious  in  time,"  said 
the  shrewd  monarch  ;  so  he  determined  to  have  them 
reared   in  the   royal   castle   of  Salobroiia.     This   was  a 


THE  THREE  SISTERS.  331 

snmptuous  palace,  incrusted,  as  it  were,  in  a  powerful 
Moorish  fortress  on  the  summit  of  a  hill  overlooking  the 
Mediterranean  sea.  It  was  a  royal  retreat,  in  which  the 
Moslem  monarchs  shut  up  such  of  their  relatives  as 
might  endanger  their  safety ;  allowing  them  all  kinds 
of  luxuries  and  amusements,  in  the  midst  of  which  they 
passed  their  lives  in  voluptuous  indolence. 

Here  the  princesses  remained,  immured  from  the  world, 
but  surrounded  by  enjoyment,  and  attended  by  female 
slaves  who  anticipated  their  wishes.  They  had  delight- 
ful gardens  for  their  recreation,  filled  with  the  rarest 
fruits  and  :Sowers,  with  aromatic  groves  and  perfumed 
baths.  On  three  sides  the  castle  looked  down  upon  a 
rich  valley,  enamelled  with  all  kinds  of  culture,  and 
bounded  by  the  lofty  Alpuxarra  mountains ;  on  the  other 
side  it  overlooked  the  broad  sunny  sea. 

In  this  delicious  abode,  in  a  propitious  climate,  and 
under  a  cloudless  sky,  the  three  princesses  grew  up  into 
wondrous  beauty ;  but,  though  all  reared  alike,  they 
gave  early  tokens  of  diversity  of  character.  Their  names 
were  Zayda,  Zorayda,  and  Zorahayda ;  and  such  was 
their  order  of  seniority,  for  there  had  been  precisely 
three  minutes  between  their  births. 

Zayda,  the  eldest,  was  of  an  intrepid  spirit,  and  took 
the  lead  of  her  sisters  in  everything,  as  she  had  done  in 
entering  into  the  world.  She  was  curious  and  inquisi- 
tive, and  fond  of  getting  at  the  bottom  of  things, 

Zorayda  had  a  great  feeling  for  beauty,  which  was  the 


332  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

reason,  no  doubt,  of  her  delighting  to  regard  her  own 
image  in  a  mirror  or  a  fountain,  and  of  her  fondness  for 
flowers,  and  jewels,  and  other  tasteful  ornaments. 

As  to  Zorahayda,  the  youngest,  she  was  soft  and  timid, 
and  extremely  sensitive,  with  a  vast  deal  of  disposable 
tenderness,  as  was  evident  from  her  number  of  pet- 
flowers,  and  pet-birds,  and  pet-animals,  all  of  which  she 
cherished  with  the  fondest  care.  Her  amusements,  too, 
were  of  a  gentle  nature,  and  mixed  up  with  musing  and 
reverie.  She  would  sit  for  hours  in  a  balcony,  gazing  on 
the  sparkling  stars  of  a  summer's  night,  or  on  the  sea 
when  lit  up  by  the  moon ;  and  at  such  times,  the  song 
of  a  fisherman,  faintly  heard  from  the  beach,  or  the  notes 
of  a  Moorish  flute  from  some  gliding  bark,  sufficed  to 
elevate  her  feelings  into  ecstasy.  The  least  uproar  of 
the  elements,  however,  filled  her  with  dismay;  and  a 
clap  of  thunder  was  enough  to  throw  her  into  a  swoon. 

Tears  rolled  on  smoothly  and  serenely;  the  discreet 
Kadiga,  to  whom  the  princesses  were  confided,  was  faith- 
ful to  her  trust,  and  attended  them  with  unremitting 
care. 

The  castle  of  Salobrena,  as  has  been  said,  was  built 
upon  a  hill  on  the  sea-coast.  One  of  the  exterior  walls 
straggled  down  the  profile  of  the  hill,  until  it  reached  a 
jutting  rock  overhanging  the  sea,  with  a  narrow  sandy 
beach  at  its  foot,  laved  by  the  rippling  billows.  A  small 
watch-tower  on  this  rock  had  been  fitted  up  as  a  pa- 
vilion, with  latticed  windows  to  admit  the   sea-breeze. 


THE  THREE  CAVALIERS.  333 

Here  the  princesses  used  to  pass  the  sultry  hours  of 
mid-day. 

The  curious  Zayda  was  one  day  seated  at  a  window  of 
the  payilion,  as  her  sisters,  reclining  on  ottomans,  were 
taking  the  siesta  or  noontide  slumber.  Her  attention 
was  attracted  to  a  galley  which  came  coasting  along, 
with  measured  strokes  of  the  oar.  As  it  drew  near,  she 
observed  that  it  was  filled  with  armed  men.  The  galley 
anchored  at  the  foot  of  the  tower  :  a  number  of  Moorish 
soldiers  landed  on  the  narrow  beach,  conducting  several 
Christian  prisoners.  The  curious  Zayda  awakened  her 
sisters,  and  all  three  peeped  cautiously  through  the 
close  jalousies  of  the  lattice  which  screened  them  from 
sight.  Among  the  prisoners  were  three  Spanish  cava- 
liers, richly  dressed.  They  were  in  the  flower  of  youth, 
and  of  noble  presence  ;  and  the  lofty  manner  in  which 
they  carried  themselves,  though  loaded  with  chains  and 
surrounded  with  enemies,  bespoke  the  grandeur  of  their 
souls.  The  princesses  gazed  with  intense  and  breathless 
interest.  Cooped  up  as  they  had  been  in  this  castle 
among  female  attendants,  seeing  nothing  of  the  male  se:^ 
but  black  slaves,  or  the  rude  fishermen  of  the  sea- 
coast,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  appearance 
of  three  gallant  cavaliers,  in  the  pride  of  youth  and 
manly  beauty,  should  produce  some  commotion  in  their 
bosom. 

"  Did  ever  nobler  being  tread  the  earth  than  that 
oavalier  in  crimson  ?  "  cried  Zayda,  the  eldest  of  the  sis- 


334  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

ters.  "  See  how  proudly  he  bears  himself,  as  though  all 
around  him  were  his  slaves !  " 

"  But  notice  that  one  in  green ! "  exclaimed  Zorayda. 
"  What  grace !  what  elegance  !  what  spirit !  " 

The  gentle  Zorahayda  said  nothing,  but  she  secretly 
gave  preference  to  the  cavalier  in  blue. 

The  princesses  remained  gazing  until  the  prisoners 
were  out  of  sight ;  then  heaving  long-drawn  sighs,  they 
turned  round,  looked  at  each  other  for  a  moment,  and  sat 
down,  musing  and  pensive,  on  their  ottomans. 

The  discreet  Kadiga  found  them  in  this  situation ; 
they  related  what  they  had  seen,  and  even  the  withered 
heart  of  the  duenna  was  warmed.  "  Poor  youths  !  "  ex- 
claimed she,  "  I'll  warrant  their  captivity  makes  many  a 
fair  and  high-born  lady's  heart  ache  in  their  native  land ! 
Ah  !  my  children,  you  have  little  idea  of  the  life  these 
cavaliers  lead  in  their  own  country.  Such  prankling 
at  tournaments  !  such  devotion  to  the  ladies !  such  court- 
ing and  serenading  !  " 

The  curiosity  of  Zayda  was  fully  aroused  ;  she  was 
insatiable  in  her  inquiries,  and  drew  from  the  duenna 
the  most  animated  pictures  of  the  scenes  of  her  youthful 
days  and  native  land.  The  beautiful  Zorayda  bridled 
up,  and  slyly  regarded  herself  in  a  mirror,  when  the 
theme  turned  upon  the  charms  of  the  Spanish  ladies ; 
while  Zorahayda  suppressed  a  struggling  sigh  at  the 
mention  of  moonlight  serenades. 

Every  day  the  curious  Zayda  renewed  her  inquiries, 


THE  EMBLEMATICAL   OFFERING.  335 

and  every  day  the  sage  duenna  repeated  her  stories, 
which  were  listened  to  v/itli  profound  interest,  though 
Y/ith  frequent  sighs,  by  her  gentle  auditors.  The  dis- 
creet old  woman  awoke  at  length  to  the  mischief  she 
might  be  doing.  She  had  been  accustomed  to  think  of 
the  princesses  only  as  children ;  but  they  had  imper- 
ceptibly ripened  beneath  her  eye,  and  now  bloomed  be- 
fore her  three  lovely  damsels  of  the  marriageable  age. 
It  is  time,  thought  the  duenna,  to  give  notice  to  the 
king. 

Mohamed  the  Left-handed  was  seated  one  morning  on 
a  divan  in  a  cool  hall  of  the  Alhambra,  when  a  slave  ar- 
rived from  the  fortress  of  Salobrena,  with  a  message  from 
the  sage  Kadiga,  congratulating  him  on  the  anniversary 
of  his  daughters'  birth-day.  The  slave  at  the  same  time 
presented  a  delicate  little  basket  decorated  with  flowers, 
within  which,  on  a  couch  of  vine  and  fig-leaves,  lay  a 
peach,  an  apricot,  and  a  nectarine,  with  their  bloom  and 
down  and  dewy  sweetness  upon  them,  and  all  in  the 
early  stage  of  tempting  ripeness.  The  monarch  was 
versed  in  the  Oriental  language  of  fruits  and  flowers, 
and  rapidly  divined  the  meaning  of  this  emblematical 
ofl'ering. 

"  So,"  said  he,  "  the  critical  period  pointed  out  by  the 
astrologers  is  arrived  :  my  daughters  are  at  a  marriage- 
able age.  What  is  to  be  done  ?  They  are  shut  up  from 
the  eyes  of  men ;  they  are  under  the  eyes  of  the  discreet 
Kadiga, — all  very  good, — but  still  they  are  not  under  my 


336  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

own  eye,  as  was  prescribed  by  the  astrologers  :  I  must 
gather  them  under  my  wing,  and  trust  to  no  other  guar- 
dianship." 

So  saying,  he  ordered  that  a  tower  of  the  Alhambra 
should  be  prepared  for  their  reception,  and  departed  at 
the  head  of  his  guards  for  the  fortress  of  Salobreiia,  to 
conduct  them  home  in  person. 

About  three  years  had  elapsed  since  Mohamed  had 
beheld  his  daughters,  and  he  could  scarcely  credit  his 
eyes  at  the  wonderful  change  which  that  small  space  of 
time  had  made  in  their  appearance.  During  the  inter- 
val, they  had  passed  that  wondrous  boundary  line  in 
female  life  which  separates  the  crude,  unformed,  and 
thoughtless  girl  from  the  blooming,  blushing,  meditative 
woman.  It  is  like  passing  from  the  flat,  bleak,  uninter- 
esting plains  of  La  Mancha  to  the  voluptuous  valleys  and 
swelling  hills  of  Andalusia. 

Zayda  was  tall  and  finely  formed,  with  a  lofty  demean- 
or and  a  penetrating  eye.  She  entered  with  a  stately 
and  decided  step,  and  made  a  profound  reverence  to  Mo- 
hamed, treating  him  more  as  her  sovereign  than  her 
father.  Zorayda  was  of  the  middle  height,  with  an  al- 
luring look  and  swimming  gait,  and  a  sparkling  beauty, 
heightened  by  the  assistance  of  the  toilette.  She  ap- 
proached her  father  with  a  smile,  kissed  his  hand,  and 
saluted  him  with  several  stanzas  from  a  popular  Arabian 
poet,  with  which  the  monarch  was  delighted.  Zorahayda 
was  shy  and  timid,  smaller  than  her  sisters,  and  with  a 


JOURNEY  TO  GRANADA.  337 

beauty  of  that  tender  beseeching  kind  which  looks  for 
fondness  and  protection.  She  was  little  fitted  to  com- 
mand, like  her  elder  sister,  or  to  dazzle  like  the  second, 
but  was  rather  formed  to  creep  to  the  bosom  of  manly 
affection,  to  nestle  within  it,  and  be  content.  She  drew 
near  to  her  father,  with  a  timid  and  almost  faltering  step, 
and  would  have  taken  his  hand  to  kiss,  but  on  looking 
up  into  his  face,  and  seeing  it  beaming  with  a  paternal 
smile,  the  tenderness  of  her  nature  broke  forth,  and  she 
threw  herself  upon  his  neck. 

Mohamed  the  Left-handed  surveyed  his  blooming 
daughters  with  mingled  pride  and  perplexity,  for  while 
he  exulted  in  their  charms,  he  bethought  himself  of  the 
prediction  of  the  astrologers.  "  Three  daughters  !  three 
daughters  ! "  muttered  he  repeatedly  to  himself,  "  and  all 
of  a  marriageable  age  !  Here's  tempting  Hesperian  fruit, 
that  requires  a  dragon  watch  ! " 

He  prepared  for  his  return  to  Granada,  by  sending 
heralds  before  him,  commanding  every  one  to  keep  out  of 
the  road  by  which  he  was  to  pass,  and  that  all  doors  and 
windows  should  be  closed  at  the  approach  of  the  prin- 
cesses. This  done,  he  set  forth,  escorted  by  a  troop  of 
black  horsemen  of  hideous  aspect,  and  clad  in  shining 
armor. 

The  princesses  rode  beside  the  king,  closely  veiled,  on 
beautiful  white  palfreys,  with  velvet  caparisons,  embroid- 
ered with  gold,  and  sweeping  the  ground ;  the  bits  and 

stirrups  were   of  gold,  and  the   silken  bridles   adorned 
23 


338  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

with  pearls  and  precious  stones.  The  palfreys  were  cov- 
ered with  little  silver  bells,  which  made  the  most  musical 
tinkling  as  they  ambled  gently  along.  Woe  to  the  un- 
lucky wight,  however,  who  lingered  in  the  way  when  he 
heard  the  tinkling  of  these  bells ! — the  guards  were  or- 
dered to  cut  him  down  without  mercy. 

The  cavalcade  was  drawing  near  to  Granada,  when  it 
overtook,  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Xenil,  a  small  body 
of  Moorish  soldiers  with  a  convoy  of  prisoners.  It  was 
too  late  for  the  soldiers  to  get  out  of  the  way,  so  they 
threw  themselves  on  their  faces  on  the  earth,  ordering 
their  captives  to  do  the  like.  Among  the  prisoners  were 
the  three  identical  cavaliers  whom  the  princesses  had 
seen  from  the  pavilion.  They  either  did  not  understand, 
or  were  too  haughty  to  obey  the  order,  and  remained 
standing  and  gazing  upon  the  cavalcade  as  it  approached. 

The  ire  of  the  monarch  was  kindled  at  this  flagrant  de- 
fiance of  his  orders.  Drawing  his  cimeter,  and  pressing 
forward,  he  was  about  to  deal  a  left-handed  blow  that 
might  have  been  fatal  to  at  least  one  of  the  gazers,  when 
the  princesses  crowded  round  him,  and  implored  mercy 
for  the  prisoners ;  even  the  timid  Zorahayda  forgot  her 
shyness,  and  became  eloquent  in  their  behalf.  Mohamed 
paused,  with  is.plifted  cimeter,  when  the  captain  of  the 
guard  threw  himself  at  his  feet.  "Let  not  your  high- 
ness," said  he,  "do  a  deed  that  may  cause  great  scandal 
throughout  the  kingdom.  These  are  three  brave  and 
noble  Spanish  knights,  who  have  been  taken  in  battle, 


SUDDEN  LOVE.  339 

fighting  like  lions ;  they  are  of  high  birth,  and  may  bring 
great  ransoms." — "  Enough  !  "  said  the  king.  "  I  will 
spare  their  lives,  but  punish  their  audacity — let  them  be 
taken  to  the  Yermilion  Towers,  and  put  to  hard  labor." 

Mohamed  was  making  one  of  his  usual  left-handed 
blunders.  In  the  tumult  and  agitation  of  this  blustering- 
scene,  the  yeils  of  the  three  princesses  had  been  thrown 
back,  and  the  radiance  of  their  beauty  revealed ;  and  in 
prolonging  the  parley,  the  king  had  given  that  beauty 
time  to  have  its  full  effect.  In  those  days  people  fell  in 
love  much  more  suddenly  than  at  present,  as  all  ancient 
stories  make  manifest :  it  is  not  a  matter  of  wonder, 
therefore,  that  the  hearts  of  the  three  cavaliers  were  com- 
pletely captured ;  especially  as  gratitude  was  added  to 
their  admiration ;  it  is  a  little  singular,  however,  though 
no  less  certain,  that  each  of  them  was  enraptured  with  a 
several  beauty.  As  to  the  princesses,  they  were  more 
than  ever  struck  with  the  noble  demeanor  of  the  captives, 
and  cherished  in  their  breasts  all  that  they  had  heard  ot 
their  valor  and  noble  lineage. 

The  cavalcade  resumed  its  march ;  the  three  princesses 
rode  pensively  along  on  their  tinkling  palfreys,  now  and 
then  stealing  a  glance  behind  in  search  of  the  Christian 
captives,  and  the  latter  were  conducted  to  their  allotted 
prison  in  the  Vermilion  Towers. 

The  residence  provided  for  the  princesses  was  one  of 
the  most  dainty  that  fancy  could  devise.  It  was  in  a 
tower  somewhat  apart  from  the  main  palace  of  the  Al- 


340  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

hambra,  though  connected  with  it  by  the  wall  which  en- 
circled the  whole  summit  of  the  hill.  On  one  side  it 
looked  into  the  interior  of  the  fortress,  and  had,  at  its 
foot,  a  small  garden  filled  with  the  rarest  flowers.  On 
the  other  side  it  overlooked  a  deep  embowered  ravine 
separating  the  grounds  of  the  Alhambra  from  those  of  the 
Generalife.  The  interior  of  the  tower  was  divided  into 
small  fairy  apartments,  beautifully  ornamented  in  the 
light  Arabian  style,  surrounding  a  lofty  hall,  the  vaulted 
roof  of  which  rose  almost  to  the  summit  of  the  tower. 
The  walls  and  the  ceilings  of  the  hall  were  adorned  with 
arabesque  and  fretwork,  sparkling  with  gold  and  with 
brilliant  pencilling.  In  the  centre  of  the  marble  pavement 
was  an  alabaster  fountain,  set  round  with  aromatic  shrubs 
and  flowers,  and  throwing  up  a  jet  of  water  that  cooled 
the  whole  edifice  and  had  a  lulling  sound.  Kound  the  hall 
were  suspended  cages  of  gold  and  silver  wire,  containing 
singing-birds  of  the  finest  plumage  or  sweetest  note. 

The  princesses  had  been  represented  as  always  cheer- 
ful when  in  the  Castle  of  the  Salobrena;  the  king  had 
expected  to  see  them  enraptured  with  the  Alhambra. 
To  his  surprise,  however,  they  began  to  pine,  and  grow 
melancholy,  and  dissatisfied  with  everything  around 
them.  The  flowers  yielded  them  no  fragrance,  the  song 
of  the  nightingale  disturbed  their  night's  rest,  and  they 
were  out  of  all  patience  with  the  alabaster  fountain,  with 
its  eternal  drop-drop  and  splash-sjDlash,  from  morning 
till  night  and  from  night  till  morning. 


FEMALE  CAPRICES.  341 

The  king,  who  was  somewhat  of  a  testy,  tyrannical 
disposition,  took  this  at  first  in  high  dudgeon;  but  he 
reflected  that  his  daughters  had  arrived  at  an  age  when 
the  female  mind  expands  and  its  desires  augment.  "  They 
are  no  longer  children,"  said  he  to  himself,  "they  are 
women  grown,  and  require  suitable  objects  to  interest 
them."  He  put  in  requisition,  therefore,  all  the  dress- 
makers, and  the  jewellers,  and  the  artificers  in  gold  and 
silver  throughout  the  Zacatin  of  Granada,  and  the  prin- 
cesses were  overwhelmed  with  robes  of  silk,  and  tissue, 
and  brocade,  and  cashmere  shawls,  and  necklaces  of 
pearls  and  diamonds,  and  rings,  and  bracelets,  and  ank- 
lets, and  all  manner  of  precious  things. 

All,  however,  was  of  no  avail ;  the  princesses  continued 
pale  and  languid  in  the  midst  of  their  finery,  and  looked 
like  three  blighted  rose-buds,  drooping  from  one  stalk. 
The  king  was  at  his  wits'  end.  He  had  in  general  a 
laudable  confidence  in  his  own  judgment,  and  never 
took  advice.  "The  whims  and  caprices  of  three  mar- 
riageable damsels,  however,  are  sufficient,"  said  he,  "to 
puzzle  the  shrewdest  head."  So  for  once  in  his  life  he 
called  in  the  aid  of  counsel. 

The  person  to  whom  he  applied  was  the  experienced 
duenna. 

"  Kadiga,"  said  the  king,  "I  know  you  to  be  one  of  the 
most  discreet  women  in  the  whole  world,  as  well  as  one 
of  the  most  trustworthy  ;  for  these  reasons  I  have  al- 
ways continued  you  about  the  persons  of  my  daughters. 


342  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Fathers  cannot  be  too  wary  in  whom  they  repose  such 
confidence ;  I  now  wish  you  to  find  out  the  secret  mal- 
ady that  is  preying  upon  the  princesses,  and  to  devise 
some  means  of  restoring  them  to  health  and  cheerful- 
ness." 

Kadiga  promised  implicit  obedience.  In  fact  she  knew 
more  of  the  malady  of  the  princesses  than  they  them- 
selves. Shutting  herself  up  with  them,  however,  she 
endeavored  to  insinuate  herself  into  their  confidence. 

"  My  dear  children,  what  is  the  reason  you  are  so 
dismal  and  downcast  in  so  beautiful  a  place,  where  you 
have  everything  that  heart  can  wish  ?  " 

The  princesses  looked  vacantly  round  the  apartment, 
and  sighed. 

"  "What  more,  then,  -would  you  have  ?  Shall  I  get  you 
the  wonderful  parrot  that  talks  all  languages,  and  is  the 
delight  of  Granada  ?  " 

"  Odious  ! "  exclaimed  the  princess  Zayda.  "  A  horrid, 
screaming  bird,  that  chatters  words  without  ideas:  one 
must  be  without  brains  to  tolerate  such  a  pest." 

"  Shall  I  send  for  a  monkey  from  the  rock  of  Gibraltar, 
to  divert  you  with  his  antics  ?  " 

"A  monkey!  faugh!"  cried  Zorayda;  "the  detestable 
mimic  of  man.     I  hate  the  nauseous  animal." 

"What  say  you  to  the  famous  black  singer  Casem, 
from  the  royal  harem,  in  Morocco?  They  say  he  has 
a  voice  as  fine  as  a  woman's." 

"  I  am  terrified  at  the  sight  of  these  black  slaves,"  said 


ELOQUENCE  OF  A  GUITAR.  343 

the  delicate  Zorahayda ;  "  besides,  I  have  lost  all  relish 
for  music." 

"  Ah  !  my  child,  you  would  not  say  so,"  replied  the  old 
woman,  slyly,  "had  you  heard  the  music  I  heard  last 
evening,  from  the  three  Spanish  cavaliers  whom  we  met 
on  our  journey.  But  bless  me,  children!  what  is  the 
matter  that  you  blush  so  and  are  in  such  a  flutter  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  nothing,  good  mother  ;  pray  proceed." 

"  Well ;  as  I  was  passing  by  the  Yermilion  Towers 
last  evening,  I  saw  the  three  cavaliers  resting  after  their 
day's  labor.  One  was  playing  on  the  guitar,  so  grace- 
fully, and  the  others  sang  by  turns ;  and  they  did  it  in 
such  style,  that  the  very  guards  seemed  like  statues,  or 
men  enchanted.  Allah  forgive  me  !  I  could  not  help 
being  moved  at  hearing  the  songs  of  my  native  country. 
And  then  to  see  three  such  noble  and  handsome  youths 
in  chains  and  slavery  ! " 

Here  the  kind-hearted  old  woman  could  not  restrain 
her  tears. 

"Perhaps,  mother,  you  could  manage  to  procure  us  a 
sight  of  these  cavaliers,"  said  Zayda. 

"I  think,"  said  Zorayda,  "a  little  music  would  be 
quite  reviving." 

The  timid  Zorahayda  said  nothing,  but  threw  her  arms 
round  the  neck  of  Kadiga. 

"  Mercy  on  me ! "  exclaimed  the  discreet  old  woman, 
"what  are  you  talking  of,  my  children?  Your  father 
would  be  the  death  of  us  all  if  he  heard  of  such  a  thing. 


344:  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

To  be  sure,  these  cavaliers  are  evidently  well-bred,  and 
high-minded  youths ;  but  what  of  that  ?  they  are  the 
enemies  of  our  faith,  and  you  must  not  even  think  of 
them  but  with  abhorrence." 

There  is  an  admirable  intrepidity  in  the  female  will, 
particularly  when  about  the  marriageable  age,  which  is 
not  to  be  deterred  by  dangers  and  prohibitions.  The 
princesses  hung  round  their  old  duenna,  and  coaxed,  and 
entreated,  and  declared  that  a  refusal  would  break  their 
hearts. 

What  could  she  do  ?  She  was  certainly  the  most  dis- 
creet old  woman  in  the  whole  world,  and  one  of  the  most 
faithful  servants  to  the  king ;  but  was  she  to  see  three 
beautiful  princesses  break  their  hearts  for  the  mere  tink- 
ling of  a  guitar  ?  Besides,  though  she  had  been  so  long 
among  the  Moors,  and  changed  her  faith  in  imitation  of 
her  mistress,  like  a  trusty  follower,  yet  she  was  a  Span- 
iard born,  and  had  the  lingerings  of  Christianity  in  her 
heart.  So  she  set  about  to  contrive  how  the  wish  of  the 
princesses  might  be  gratified. 

The  Christian  captives,  confined  in  the  Vermilion 
Towers,  were  under  the  charge  of  a  big-whiskered, 
broad-shouldered  renegado,  called  Hussein  Baba,  who 
was  reputed  to  have  a  most  itching  palm.  She  went  to 
him  privately,  and  slipping  a  broad  piece  of  gold  into  his 
hand,  "  Hussein  Baba,"  said  she ;  "  my  mistresses  the 
three  princesses,  who  are  shut  up  in  the  tower,  and  in 
sad  want   of    amusement,   have    heard   of    the   musical 


LO  VE-DITTIE8.  34^5 

talents  of  the  three  Spanish  cavaliers,  and  are  desirous  of 
hearing  a  specimen  of  their  skill.  I  am  sure  you  are  too 
kind-hearted  to  refuse  them  so  innocent  a  gratification." 

"What!  and  to  have  my  head  set  grinning  over  the 
gate  of  my  own  tower  !  for  that  would  be  the  reward,  if 
the  king  should  discover  it." 

"  No  danger  of  anything  of  the  kind ;  the  affair  may  be 
managed  so  that  the  whim  of  the  princesses  may  be 
gratified,  and  their  father  be  never  the  wiser.  You  know 
the  deep  ravine  outside  of  the  walls  which  passes  im- 
mediately below  the  tower.  Put  the  three  Christians  to 
work  there,  and  at  the  intervals  of  their  labor,  let  them 
play  and  sing,  as  if  for  their  own  recreation.  In  this  way 
the  princesses  will  be  able  to  hear  them  from  the  win- 
dows of  the  tower,  and  you  may  be  sure  of  their  paying 
well  for  your  compliance." 

As  the  good  old  woman  concluded  her  harangue,  she 
kindly  pressed  the  rough  hand  of  the  renegado,  and  left 
within  it  another  piece  of  gold. 

Her  eloquence  was  irresistible.  The  very  next  day 
the  three  cavaliers  were  put  to  work  in  the  ravine.  Dur- 
ing the  noontide  heat,  when  their  fellow-laborers  were 
sleeping  in  the  shade,  and  the  guard  nodding  drow^sily  at 
his  post,  they  seated  themselves  among  the  herbage  at 
the  foot  of  the  tower,  and  sang  a  Spanish  roundelay  to 
the  accompaniment  of  the  guitar. 

The  glen  was  deep,  the  tower  was  high,  but  their 
voices  rose  distinctly  in  the  stillness  of  the  summer  noon. 


346  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

The  princesses  listened  from  their  balcony,  they  had 
been  taught  the  Spanish  language  by  their  duenna,  and 
were  moved  by  the  tenderness  of  the  song.  The  discreet 
Kadiga,  on  the  contrary,  was  terribly  shocked.  "  Allah 
preserve  us  !  "  cried  she,  "  they  are  singing  a  love-ditty, 
addressed  to  yourselves.  Did  ever  mortal  hear  of  such 
audacity  ?  I  will  run  to  the  slave-master,  and  have  them 
soundly  bastinadoed." 

"  What !  bastinado  such  gallant  cavaliers,  and  for  sing- 
ing so  charmingly!"  The  three  beautiful  princesses  were 
filled  with  horror  at  the  idea.  With  all  her  virtuous  in- 
dignation, the  good  old  woman  was  of  a  placable  nature, 
and  easily  appeased.  Besides,  the  music  seemed  to  have 
a  beneficial  effect  upon  her  young  mistresses.  A  rosy 
bloom  had  already  come  to  their  cheeks,  and  their  eyes 
began  to  sparkle.  She  made  no  further  objection,  there- 
fore, to  the  amorous  ditty  of  the  cavaliers. 

When  it  was  finished,  the  princesses  remained  silent 
for  a  time ;  at  length  Zorayda  took  up  a  lute,  and  with  a 
sweet,  though  faint  and  trembling  voice,  warbled  a  little 
Arabian  air,  the  burden  of  which  was,  "  The  rose  is  con- 
cealed among  her  leaves,  but  she  listens  with  delight  to 
the  song  of  the  nightingale." 

From  this  time  forward  the  cavaliers  worked  almost 
daily  in  the  ravine.  The  considerate  Hussein  Baba 
became  more  and  more  indulgent,  and  daily  more  prone 
to  sleep  at  his  post.  For  some  time  a  vague  inter- 
course was  kept  up  by  popular  songs  and  romances, 


THE  LANGUAGE  OF  FLOWERS.  347 

which  in  some  measure  responded  to  each  other,  and 
breathed  the  feelings  of  the  parties.  By  degrees  the 
princesses  showed  themselves  at  the  balcony,  when 
they  conld  do  so  without  being  perceived  by  the  guards. 
They  conversed  with  the  cavaliers  also,  by  means  of 
flowers,  with  the  symbolical  language  of  which  they  were 
mutually  acquainted ;  the  difficulties  of  their  intercourse 
added  to  its  charms,  and  strengthened  the  passion  they 
had  so  singularly  conceived ;  for  love  delights  to  strug- 
gle with  difficulties,  and  thrives  the  most  hardily  on  the 
scantiest  soil. 

The  change  effected  in  the  looks  and  spirits  of  the 
princesses  by  this  secret  intercourse,  surprised  and  grat- 
ified the  left-handed  king ;  but  no  one  was  more  elated 
than  the  discreet  Kadiga,  who  considered  it  all  owing  to 
her  able  management. 

At  length  there  was  an  interruption  in  this  telegraphic 
correspondence  :  for  several  days  the  cavaliers  ceased 
to  make  their  appearance  in  the  glen.  The  princesses 
looked  out  from  the  tower  in  vain.  In  vain  they 
stretched  their  swan-like  necks  from  the  balcony ;  in 
vain  they  sang  like  captive  nightingales  in  their  cage : 
nothing  was  to  be  seen  of  their  Christian  lovers  ;  not  a 
note  responded  from  the  groves.  The  discreet  Kadiga 
sallied  forth  in  quest  of  intelligence,  and  soon  returned 
with  a  face  full  of  trouble.  "  Ah,  my  children ! "  cried 
she,  "  I  saw  what  all  this  would  come  to,  but  you  would 
have  your  way ;  you  may  now  hang  up  your  lutes  on  the 


348  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

willows.  The  Spanish  cavaliers  are  ransomed  by  their 
families ;  they  are  down  in  Granada,  and  preparing  to 
return  to  their  native  country." 

The  three  beautiful  princesses  were  in  despair  at  the 
tidings.  Zayda  was  indignant  at  the  slight  put  upon 
them,  in  thus  being  deserted  without  a  parting  word. 
Zorayda  wrung  her  hands  and  cried,  and  looked  in  the 
glass,  and  wiped  away  her  tears,  and  cried  afresh.  The 
gentle  Zorahayda  leaned  over  the  balcony  and  wept  in 
silence,  and  her  tears  fell  drop  by  drop  among  the  flow- 
ers of  the  bank,  where  the  faithless  cavaliers  had  so 
often  been  seated. 

The  discreet  Kadiga  did  all  in  her  power  to  soothe 
their  sorrow.  "Take  comfort,  my  children,"  said  she, 
"this  is  nothing  when  you  are  used  to  it.  This  is  the 
way  of  the  world.  Ah!  when  you  are  as  old  as  I  am, 
you  will  know  how  to  value  these  men.  I'll  warrant 
these  cavaliers  have  their  loves  among  the  Spanish  beau- 
ties of  Cordova  and  Seville,  and  will  soon  be  serenad- 
ing under  their  balconies,  and  thinking  no  more  of  the 
Moorish  beauties  in  the  Alhambra.  Take  comfort,  there- 
fore, my  children,  and  drive  them  from  your  hearts." 

The  comforting  words  of  the  discreet  Kadiga  only  re- 
doubled the  distress  of  the  three  princesses,  and  for  two 
days  they  continued  inconsolable.  On  the  morning  of 
the  third  the  good  old  woman  entered  their  apartment, 
all  ruffling  with  indignation. 

"Who  would  have  believed  such  insolence  in  mortal 


THE  AFFLICTED  DTTENNA,  349 

man ! "  exclaimed  she,  as  soon  as  she  could  find  words  to 
express  herself;  "but  I  am  rightly  served  for  having  con- 
nived at  this  deception  of  your  worthy  father.  Never 
talk  more  to  me  of  your  Spanish  cavaliers." 

"  Why,  what  has  happened,  good  Kadiga  ?  "  exclaimed 
the  princesses  in  breathless  anxiety. 

"  What  has  happened  ? — treason  has  happened  !  or, 
what  is  almost  as  bad,  treason  has  been  proposed  ;  and 
to  me,  the  most  faithful  of  subjects,  the  trustiest  of 
duennas !  Yes,  my  children,  the  Spanish  cavaliers  have 
dared  to  tamper  with  me,  that  I  should  persuade  you  to 
fly  with  them  to  Cordova,  and  become  their  wives ! " 

Here  the  excellent  old  woman  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands,  and  gave  way  to  a  violent  burst  of  grief  and 
indignation.  The  three  beautiful  princesses  turned  pale 
and  red,  pale  and  red,  and  trembled,  and  looked  down, 
and  cast  shy  looks  at  each  other,  but  said  nothing. 
Meantime  the  old  woman  sat  rocking  backward  and  for- 
ward in  violent  agitation,  and  now  and  then  breaking  out 
into  exclamations, — "That  ever  I  should  live  to  be  so 
insulted  ! — I,  the  most  faithful  of  servants  ! " 

At  length  the  eldest  princess,  who  had  most  spirit  and 
always  took  the  lead,  approached  her,  and  laying  her 
hand  upon  her  shoulder,  "Well,  mother,"  said  she,  "sup- 
posing we  were  willing  to  fly  with  these  Christian  cava- 
liers— is  such  a  thing  possible?" 

The  good  old  woman  paused  suddenly  in  her  grief,  and 
looking  up,  "Possible,"  echoed  she;  "to  be  sure  it  is 


350  TSE  ALHAMBBA. 

possible.  Have  not  the  cavaliers  already  bribed  Hussein 
Baba,  tlie  renegado  captain  of  the  guard,  and  arranged 
the  whole  plan?  But,  then,  to  think  of  deceiving  your 
father!  your  father,  who  has  placed  such  confidence  in 
me ! "  Here  the  worthy  woman  gave  way  to  a  fresh  burst 
of  grief,  and  began  again  to  rock  backward  and  forward, 
and  to  wring  her  hands. 

"  But  our  father  has  never  placed  any  confidence  in 
us,"  said  the  eldest  princess,  "but  has  trusted  to  bolts 
and  bars,  and  treated  us  as  captives." 

"  Why,  that  is  true  enough,"  replied  the  old  woman, 
again  pausing  in  her  grief ;  "  he  has  indeed  treated  you 
most  unreasonably,  keeping  you  shut  up  here,  to  waste 
your  bloom  in  a  moping  old  tower,  like  roses  left  to 
wither  in  a  flower-jar.  But,  then,  to  fly  from  your  native 
land!" 

"And  is  not  the  land  we  fly  to  the  native  land  of  our 
mother,  where  we  shall  live  in  freedom?  And  shall  we 
not  each  have  a  youthful  husband  in  exchange  for  a 
severe  old  father  ?  " 

"  Why,  that  again  is  all  very  true ;  and  your  father,  I 
must  confess,  is  rather  tyrannical ;  but  what  then,"  re- 
lapsing into  her  grief,  "would  you  leave  me  behind  to 
bear  the  brunt  of  his  vengeance  ?  " 

"  By  no  means,  my  good  Kadiga ;  cannot  you  fly  with 
us?" 

"  Yery  true,  my  child ;  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  when  I 
talked  the  matter  over  with  Hussein  Baba,  he  promised 


THE  ABBANOEMENT,  351 

k>  take  care  of  me,  if  I  would  accompany  you  in  your 
flight ;  but  then,  bethink  you,  my  children,  are  you  will- 
ing to  renounce  the  faith  of  your  father  ?  " 

"  The  Christian  faith  was  the  original  faith  of  our 
mother,"  said  the  eldest  princess ;  "  I  am  ready  to  em- 
brace it,  and  so,  I  am  sure,  are  my  sisters." 

"  Eight  again,"  exclaimed  the  old  woman,  brightening 
up ;  "  ifc  was  the  original  faith  of  your  mother,  and  bit- 
terly did  she  lament,  on  her  death-bed,  that  she  had 
renounced  it.  I  promised  her  then  to  take  care  of  your 
souls,  and  I  rejoice  to  see  that  they  are  now  in  a  fair  way 
to  be  saved.  Yes,  my  children,  I  too  was  born  a  Chris- 
tian, and  have  remained  a  Christian  in  my  heart,  and  am 
resolved  to  return  to  the  faith.  I  have  talked  on  the 
subject  with  Hussein  Baba,  who  is  a  Spaniard  by  birth, 
and  comes  from  a  place  not  far  from  my  native  town.  He 
is  equally  anxious  to  see  his  own  country,  and  to  be  rec- 
onciled to  the  Church ;  and  the  cavaliers  have  promised 
that,  if  we  are  disposed  to  become  man  and  wife,  on 
returning  to  our  native  land,  they  will  provide  for  us 
handsomely." 

In  a  word,  it  appeared  that  this  extremely  discreet  and 
provident  old  woman  had  consulted  with  the  cavaliers 
and  the  renegado,  and  had  concerted  the  whole  plan  of 
escape.  The  eldest  princess  immediately  assented  to  it; 
and  her  example,  as  usual,  determined  the  conduct  of  her 
sisters.  It  is  true  the  youngest  hesitated,  for  she  was 
gentle  and  timid  of  soul,  and  there  was  a  struggle  in  her 


352  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

bosom  between  filial  feeling  and  youthful  passion :  tlie 
latter,  however,  as  usual,  gained  the  victory,  and  with 
silent  tears  and  stifled  sighs  she  prepared  herself  for 
flight. 

The  rugged  hill  on  which  the  Alhambra  is  built  was, 
in  old  times,  perforated  with  subterranean  passages,  cut 
through  the  rock,  and  leading  from  the  fortress  to  vari- 
ous parts  of  the  city,  and  to  distant  sally-ports  on  the 
banks  of  the  Darro  and  the  Xenil.  They  had  been  con- 
structed at  different  times  by  the  Moorish  kings,  as 
means  of  escape  from  sudden  insurrections,  or  of  secretly 
issuing  forth  on  private  enterprises.  Many  of  them  are 
now  entirely  lost,  while  others  remain,  partly  choked 
with  rubbish,  and  partly  walled  up,  —  monuments  of 
the  jealous  precautions  and  warlike  stratagems  of  the 
Moorish  government.  By  one  of  these  passages  Hussein 
Baba  had  undertaken  to  conduct  the  princesses  to  a  sally- 
port beyond  the  walls  of  the  city,  where  the  cavaliers 
were  to  be  ready  with  fleet  steeds,  to  bear  the  whole 
party  over  the  borders. 

The  appointed  night  arrived ;  the  tower  of  the  prin- 
cesses had  been  locked  up  as  usual,  and  the  Alhambra 
was  buried  in  deep  sleep.  Towards  midnight  the  dis- 
creet Kadiga  listened  from  the  balcony  of  a  window  that 
looked  into  the  garden.  Hussein  Baba,  the  renegado, 
was  already  below,  and  gave  the  appointed  signal.  The 
duenna  fastened  the  end  of  a  ladder  of  ropes  to  the  bal- 
cony, lowered  it  into  the  garden  and  descended.      The 


THE  LADDER  OF  ROPES.  353 

two  eldest  princesses  followed  her  with  beating  hearts  ; 
but  when  it  came  to  the  turn  of  the  youngest  princess^ 
Zorahayda,  she  hesitated  and  trembled.  Several  times 
she  ventured  a  delicate  little  foot  upon  the  ladder,  and  as 
often  drew  it  back,  while  her  poor  little  heart  fluttered 
more  and  more  the  longer  she  delayed.  She  cast  a  v/ist- 
ful  look  back  into  the  silken  chamber ;  she  had  lived  in 
it,  to  be  sure,  like  a  bird  in  a  cage  ;  but  within  it  she  wag 
secure  ;  who  could  tell  what  dangers  might  beset  her, 
should  she  flutter  forth  into  the  wide  world !  Now  she 
bethought  her  of  her  gallant  Christian  lover,  and  hei 
little  foot  was  instantly  upon  the  ladder ;  and  anon  she 
thought  of  her  father,  and  shrank  back.  But  fruitless  is 
the  attempt  to  describe  the  conflict  in  the  bosom  of  one 
so  young  and  tender  and  loving,  but  so  timid  and  so  ig- 
norant of  th'^  world. 

In  vain  her  sisters  implored,  the  duenna  scolded,  and 
the  renegado  blasphemed  beneath  the  balcony :  the  gentle 
little  Moorish  maid  stood  doubting  and  wavering  on  the 
verge  of  elopement ;  tempted  by  the  sweetness  of  the  sin, 
but  terrified  at  its  perils. 

Every  moment  increased  the  danger  of  discovery.  A 
distant  tramp  was  heard.  "  The  patrols  are  walking 
their  rounds,"  cried  the  renegado;  "if  we  linger,  we 
perish.     Princess,  descend  instantly,  or  we  leave  you.'^ 

Zorahayda  was  for  a  moment  in  fearful  agitation  ;  then 
loosening  the  ladder  of  ropes,  with  desperate  resolution 
she  flung  it  from  the  balcony. 


354  TEE  ALHAMBHA. 

"  It  is  decided !  '*  cried  slie  ;  "  flight  is  now  out  of  m^ 
power  1  Allah  guide  and  bless  ye,  my  dear  sisters  1  " 

The  two  eldest  princesses  were  shocked  at  the  thoughts 
of  leaving  her  behind,  and  would  fain  have  lingered,  but 
the  patrol  was  advancing  ;  the  renegado  was  furious,  and 
they  were  hurried  away  to  the  subterraneous  passage. 
They  groped  their  way  through  a  fearful  labyrinth,  cut 
through  the  heart  of  the  mountain,  and  succeeded  in 
reaching,  undiscovered,  an  iron  gate  that  opened  outside 
of  the  walls.  The  Spanish  cavaliers  were  waiting  to 
receive  them,  disguised  as  Moorish  soldiers  of  the  guard, 
commanded  by  the  renegado. 

The  lover  of  Zorahayda  was  frantic  when  he  learned 
that  she  had  refused  to  leave  the  tower ;  but  there  was 
no  time  to  waste  in  lamentations.  The  two  princesses 
were  placed  behind  their  lovers,  the  discreet  Kadiga 
mounted  behind  the  renegado,  and  they  all  set  off  at  a 
round  pace  in  the  direction  of  the  Pass  of  Lope,  which 
leads  through  the  mountains  towards  Cordova. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far  when  they  heard  the  noise 
of  drums  and  trumpets  from  the  battlements  of  the  Al- 
hambra. 

"  Our  flight  is  discovered !  "  said  the  renegado, 

"  We  have  fleet  steeds,  the  night  is  dark,  and  we  may 
distance  all  pursuit,"  replied  the  cavaliers. 

They  put  spurs  to  their  horses,  and  scoured  across  the 
Yega.  They  attained  the  foot  of  the  mountain  of  Elvira, 
which  stretches  like  a  promontory  into  the  plain.     The 


THE  FLIGHT.  B55 

renegade  paused  and  listened.  "As  yet,"  said  he,  "there 
is  no  one  on  our  traces,  we  shall  make  good  our  escape 
to  the  mountains."  While  he  spoke,  a  light  blaze 
sprang  up  on  the  top  of  the  watch-tower  of  the  Alham= 
bra. 

"  Confusion  !  "  cried  the  renegado,  "  that  bale  fire  will 
put  all  the  guards  of  the  passes  on  the  alert.  Away! 
away  !     Spur  like  mad, — there  is  no  time  to  be  lost." 

Away  they  dashed — the  clattering  of  their  horses' 
hoofs  echoed  from  rock  to  rock,  as  they  swept  along  the 
road  that  skirts  the  rocky  mountain  of  Elvira.  As  they 
galloped  on,  the  bale  fire  of  the  Alhambra  was  answered 
in  every  direction  ;  light  after  light  blazed  on  the  Atala- 
yas,  or  watch-towers  of  the  mountains. 

"  Forward !  forward  !  "  cried  the  renegado,  with  many 
an  oath,  "  to  the  bridge, — to  the  bridge,  before  the  alarm 
has  reached  there  !  " 

They  doubled  the  promontory  of  the  mountains,  and  ar- 
rived in  sight  of  the  famous  Bridge  of  Pinos,  that  crosses 
a  rushing  stream  often  dyed  with  Christian  and  Moslem 
blood.  To  their  confusion,  the  tower  on  the  bridge 
blazed  with  lights  and  glittered  with  armed  men.  The 
renegado  pulled  up  his  steed,  rose  in  his  stirrups  and 
looked  about  him  for  a  moment ;  then  beckoning  to  the 
cavaliers,  he  struck  off  from  the  road,  skirted  the  river 
for  some  distance,  and  dashed  into  its  waters.  The  cav- 
aliers called  upon  the  princesses  to  cling  to  them,  and 
did  the  same.     They  were  borne  for  some  distance  down 


356  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

the  rapid  current,  the  surges  roared  round  them,  but  the 
beautiful  princesses  clung  to  their  Christian  knights, 
and  never  uttered  a  complaint.  The  cavaliers  attained 
the  opposite  bank  in  safety,  and  were  conducted  by  the 
renegado,  by  rude  and  unfrequented  paths  and  wild  bar- 
rancos,  through  the  heart  of  the  mountains,  so  as  to 
avoid  all  the  regular  passes.  In  a  word,  they  succeeded 
in  reaching  the  ancient  city  of  Cordova  ;  where  their  res- 
toration to  their  country  and  friends  was  celebrated  with 
great  rejoicings,  for  they  were  of  the  noblest  families. 
The  beautiful  princesses  were  forthwith  received  into 
the  bosom  of  the  Church,  and,  after  being  in  all  due  form 
made  regular  Christians,  were  rendered  happy  wives. 

In  our  hurry  to  make  good  the  escape  of  the  prin- 
cesses across  the  river,  and  up  the  mountains,  we  forgot 
to  mention  the  fate  of  the  discreet  Kadiga.  She  had 
clung  like  a  cat  to  Hussein  Baba  in  the  scamper  across 
the  Yega,  screaming  at  every  bound,  and  drawing  many 
an  oath  from  the  whiskered  renegado  ;  but  when  he  pre- 
pared to  plunge  his  steed  into  the  river,  her  terror  knew 
no  bounds.  "Grasp  me  not  so  tightly,"  cried  Hussein 
Baba;  "hold  on  by  my  belt  and  fear  nothing."  She 
held  firmly  with  both  hands  by  the  leathern  belt  that 
girded  the  broad-backed  renegado  ;  but  when  he  halted 
with  the  cavaliers  to  take  breath  on  the  mountain  sum- 
mit, the  duenna  was  no  longer  to  be  seen. 

"  What  has  become  of  Kadiga  ?  "  cried  the  princesses 
in  alarm. 


THE  FATE  OF  KADIGA.  357 

"Allah  alone  knows  !  "  replied  the  renegado ;  " my  belt 
came  loose  when  in  the  midst  of  the  river,  and  Kadiga 
was  swept  with  it  down  the  stream.  The  will  of  Allah 
be  done  !  but  it  was  an  embroidered  belt,  and  of  great 
price." 

There  was  no  time  to  waste  in  idle  regrets ;  yet  bit- 
terly did  the  princesses  bewail  the  loss  of  their  discreet 
counsellor.  That  excellent  old  woman,  however,  did  not 
lose  more  than  half  of  her  nine  lives  in  the  water :  a  fish- 
erman, who  was  drawing  his  nets  some  distance  down 
the  stream,  brought  her  to  land,  and  was  not  a  little 
astonished  at  his  miraculous  draught.  What  further 
became  of  the  discreet  Kadiga,  the  legend  does  not  men- 
tion; certain  it  is  that  she  evinced  her  discretion  in 
never  venturing  within  the  reach  of  Mohamed  the  Left- 
handed. 

Almost  as  little  is  know^n  of  the  conduct  of  that  saga- 
cious monarch  when  he  discovered  the  escape  of  his 
daughters,  and  the  deceit  practised  upon  him  by  the 
most  faithful  of  servants.  It  was  the  only  instance  in 
which  he  had  called  in  the  aid  of  counsel,  and  he  was 
never  afterwards  known  to  be  guilty  of  a  similar  weak- 
ness. He  took  good  care,  however,  to  guard  his  remain- 
ing daughter,  who  had  no  disposition  to  elope  ;  it  is 
thought,  indeed,  that  she  secretly  repented  having  re- 
mained behind  :  now  and  then  she  was  seen  leaning  on 
the  battlements  of  the  tower,  and  looking  mournfully 
towards  the  mountains  in  the  direction  of  Cordova,  and 


358  THE  ALHAMBRA, 

sometimes  tlie  notes  of  lier  lute  were  heard  accompany- 
ing plaintive  ditties,  in  which  she  was  said  to  lament  the 
loss  of  her  sisters  and  her  lover,  and  to  bewail  her  soli- 
tary life.  She  died  young,  and,  according  to  popular 
rumor,  was  buried  in  a  vault  beneath  the  tower,  and  her 
untimely  fate  has  given  rise  to  more  than  one  tradition- 
ary fable. 

The  following  legend,  which  seems  in  some  measure 
to  spring  out  of  the  foregoing  story,  is  too  closely  con- 
nected with  high  historic  names  to  be  entirely  doubted. 
The  Count's  daughter,  and  some  of  her  young  compan- 
ions, to  whom  it  was  read  in  one  of  the  evening  tertul- 
lias,  thought  certain  parts  of  it  had  much  appearance  of 
reality ;  and  Dolores,  who  was  much  more  versed  than 
they  in  the  improbable  truths  of  the  Alhambra,  believed 
every  word  of  it. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  EOSE  OF  THE 
ALHAMBRA. 

OR  some  time  after  the  surrender  of  Granada 
by  the  Moors,  that  delightful  city  was  a  fre- 
quent and  favorite  residence  of  the  Spanish 
sovereigns,  until  they  were  frightened  away  by  succes- 
sive shocks  of  earthquakes,  which  toppled  down  various 
houses,  and  made  the  old  Moslem  towers  rock  to  their 
foundation. 

Many,  many  years  then  rolled  away,  during  which 
Granada  was  rarely  honored  by  a  royal  guest.  The  pal- 
aces of  the  nobility  remained  silent  and  shut  up;  and 
the  Alhambra,  like  a  slighted  beauty,  sat  in  mournful 
desolation  among  her  neglected  gardens.  The  tower  of 
the  Infantas,  once  the  residence  of  the  three  beautiful 
Moorish  princesses,  partook  of  the  general  desolation; 
the  spider  spun  her  web  athwart  the  gilded  vault,  and 
bats  and  owls  nestled  in  those  chambers  that  had  been 
graced  by  the  presence  of  Zayda,  Zorayda,  and  Zora- 
hayda.  The  neglect  of  this  tower  may  have  been  partly 
owing  to  some  superstitious  notions  of  the  neighbors.  It 
was  rumored  that  the  spirit  of  the  youthful  Zorahayda, 

359 


360  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

who  had  perished  in  that  tower,  was  often  seen  by  moon- 
light seated  beside  the  fountain  in  the  hall,  or  moaning 
about  the  battlements,  and  that  the  notes  of  her  silver 
lute  would  be  heard  at  midnight  by  wayfarers  passing 
along  the  glen. 

At  length  the  city  of  Granada  was  once  more  welcomed 
by  the  royal  presence.  All  the  world  knows  that  Philip 
Y.  was  the  first  Bourbon  that  swayed  the  Spanish  scep- 
tre. All  the  world  knows  that  he  married,  in  second 
nuptials,  Elizabetta  or  Isabella  (for  they  are  the  same), 
the  beautiful  princess  of  Parma ;  and  all  the  world  knows 
that  by  this  chain  of  contingencies  a  French  prince  and 
an  Italian  princess  were  seated  together  on  the  Spanish 
throne.  For  a  visit  of  this  illustrious  pair,  the  Alhambra 
was  repaired  and  fitted  up  with  all  possible  expedition. 
The  arrival  of  the  court  changed  the  whole  aspect  of  the 
lately  deserted  palace.  The  clangor  of  drum  and  trum- 
pet, the  tramp  of  steed  about  the  avenues  and  outer 
court,  the  glitter  of  arms  and  display  of  banners  about 
barbican  and  battlement,  recalled  the  ancient  and  warlike 
glories  of  the  fortress.  A  softer  spirit,  however,  reigned 
within  the  royal  palace.  There  was  the  rustling  of  robes 
and  the  cautious  tread  and  murmuring  voice  of  reve- 
rential courtiers  about  the  ante-chambers ;  a  loitering  of 
pages  and  maids  of  honor  about  the  gardens,  and  the 
sound  of  music  stealing  from  open  casements. 

Among  those .  who  attended  in  the  train  of  the  mon- 
archs    was   a   favorite  page  of  the  queen,  named   Euyz 


THE  TRUANT  FALCON.  361 

de  Alarcon.  To  say  that  lie  was  a  favorite  page  of  the 
queen  was  at  once  to  speak  his  eulogium,  for  every  one 
in  the  suite  of  the  stately  Elizabetta  was  chosen  for 
grace,  and  beauty,  and  accomplishments.  He  was  just 
turned  of  eighteen,  light  and  lithe  of  form,  and  graceful 
as  a  young  Antinous.  To  the  queen  he  was  all  defer- 
ence and  respect,  yet  he  was  at  heart  a  roguish  strip- 
ling, petted  and  sj)oiled  by  the  ladies  about  the  court, 
and  experienced  in  the  ways  of  women  far  beyond  his 
years. 

This  loitering  page  was  one  morning  rambling  about 
the  groves  of  the  Generalife,  which  overlook  the  grounds 
of  the  Alhambra.  He  had  taken  with  him  for  his  amuse- 
ment a  favorite  ger-falcon  of  the  queen.  In  the  course  of 
his  rambles,  seeing  a  bird  rising  from  a  thicket,  he  un- 
hooded  the  hawk  and  let  him  fly.  The  falcon  towered 
high  in  the  air,  made  a  swoop  at  his  quarry,  but  missing 
it,  soared  away,  regardless  of  the  calls  of  the  page.  The 
latter  followed  the  truant  bird  with  his  eye,  in  its  capri- 
cious flight,  until  he  saw  it  alight  upon  the  battlements 
of  a  remote  and  lonely  tower,  in  the  outer  wall  of  the 
Alhambra,  built  on  the  edge  of  a  ravine  that  separated 
the  royal  fortress  from  the  grounds  of  the  Generalife. 
It  was  in  fact  the  "  Tower  of  the  Princesses." 

The  page  descended  into  the  ravine  and  approached 
the  tower,  but  it  had  no  entrance  from  the  glen,  and  its 
lofty  height  rendered  any  attempt  to  scale  it  fruitless. 
Seeking  one  of  the  gates  of  the  fortress,  therefore,  he 


362  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

made  a  wide  circuit  to  tliat  side  of  the  tower  facing  with- 
in the  walls. 

A  small  garden,  enclosed  by  a  trellis- work  of  reeds 
overhung  with  myrtle,  lay  before  the  tower.  Opening  a 
wicket,  the  page  passed  between  beds  of  flowers  and 
thickets  of  roses  to  the  door.  It  was  closed  and  bolted. 
A  crevice  in  the  door  gave  him  a  peep  into  the  interior. 
There  was  a  small  Moorish  hall  with  fretted  walls,  light 
marble  columns,  and  an  alabaster  fountain  surrounded 
with  flowers.  In  the  centre  hung  a  gilt  cage  containing 
a  singing-bird ;  beneath  it,  on  a  chair,  lay  a  tortoise- 
shell  cat  among  reels  of  silk  and  other  articles  of  female 
labor,  and  a  guitar  decorated  with  ribbons  leaned  against 
the  fountain. 

Euyz  de  Alarcon  was  struck  with  these  traces  of  fe- 
male taste  and  elegance  in  a  lonely,  and,  as  he  had  sup- 
posed, deserted  tower.  They  reminded  him  of  the  tales 
of  enchanted  halls  current  in  the  Alhambra ;  and  the  tor- 
toise-shell cat  might  be  some  spell-bound  princess. 

He  knocked  gently  at  the  door.  A  beautiful  face 
peeped  out  from  a  little  window  above,  but  was  instantly 
withdrawn.  He  waited,  expecting  that  the  door  would 
be  opened,  but  he  waited  in  vain ;  no  footstep  was  to  be 
heard  within — all  was  silent.  Had  his  senses  deceived 
him,  or  was  this  beautiful  apparition  the  fairy  of  the 
tower?  He  knocked  again,  and  more  loudly.  After  a 
little  while  the  beaming  face  once  more  peeped  forth ;  it 
was  that  of  a  blooming  damsel  of  fifteen. 


THE  CAPITULATION,  363 

The  page  immediately  doffed  Ms  plumed  bonnet,  and 
entreated  in  the  most  courteous  accents  to  be  permitted 
to  ascend  the  tower  in  pursuit  of  his  falcon. 

"I  dare  not  open  the  door,  Senor,"  replied  the  little 
damsel,  blushing,  "my  aunt  has  forbidden  it." 

"I  do  beseech  you,  fair  maid — it  is  the  favorite  fal- 
con of  the  queen  :  I  dare  not  return  to  the  palace  with- 
out it." 

"Are  you  then  one  of  the  cavaliers  of  the  court?  " 

"  I  am,  fair  maid ;  but  I  shall  lose  the  queen's  favoi 
and  my  place,  if  I  lose  this  hawk." 

"  Santa  Maria !  It  is  against  you  cavaliers  of  the 
court  my  aunt  has  charged  me  especially  to  bar  the 
door." 

"  Against  wicked  cavaliers  doubtless,  but  I  am  none  of 
these,  but  a  simple,  harmless  page,  who  will  be  ruined 
and  undone  if  you  deny  me  this  small  request." 

The  heart  of  the  little  damsel  was  touched  by  the  dis- 
tress of  the  page.  It  was  a  thousand  pities  he  should  be 
ruined  for  the  want  of  so  trifling  a  boon.  Surely  too  he 
could  not  be  one  of  those  dangerous  beings  whom  her 
aunt  had  described  as  a  speces  of  cannibal,  ever  on  the 
prowl  to  make  prey  of  thoughtless  damsels  ;  he  was 
gentle  and  modest,  and  stood  so  entreatingly  with  cap  in 
hand,  and  looked  so  charming. 

The  sly  page  saw  that  the  garrison  began  to  waver, 
and  redoubled  his  entreaties  in  such  moving  terms  that 
it  was  not  in  the  nature   of  mortal  maiden  to  deny  him ; 


364  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

SO  the  blushing  little  warden  of  the  tower  descended, 
and  opened  the  door  with  a  trembling  hand,  and  if  the 
page  had  been  charmed  by  a  mere  glimpse  of  her  coun- 
tenance from  the  window,  he  was  ravished  by  the  full- 
length  portrait  now  revealed  to  him. 

Her  Andalusian  bodice  and  trim  basquiiia  set  off  the 
round  but  delicate  symmetry  of  her  form,  which  was 
as  yet  scarce  verging  into  womanhood.  Her  glossy  hair 
was  parted  on  her  forehead  with  scrupulous  exactness, 
and  decorated  with  a  fresh-plucked  rose,  according  to 
the  universal  custom  of  the  country.  It  is  true  her  com- 
plexion was  tinged  by  the  ardor  of  a  southern  sun,  but  it 
served  to  give  richness  to  the  mantling  bloom  of  her 
cheek,  and  to  heighten  the  lustre  of  her  melting  eyes. 

Euyz  de  Alarcon  beheld  all  this  with  a  single  glance, 
for  it  became  him  not  to  tarry ;  he  merely  murmured  his 
acknowledgments,  and  then  bounded  lightly  up  the  spi- 
ral staircase  in  quest  of  his  falcon. 

He  soon  returned  with  the  truant  bird  upon  his  fist. 
The  damsel,  in  the  meantime,  had  seated  herself  by  the 
fountain  in  the  hall,  and  was  winding  silk ;  but  in  her 
agitation  she  let  fall  the  reel  upon  the  pavement.  The 
page  sprang  and  picked  it  up,  then  dropping  gracefully 
on  one  knee,  presented  it  to  her ;  but,  seizing  the  hand 
extended  to  receive  it,  imprinted  on  it  a  kiss  more  fer- 
vent and  devout  than  he  had  ever  imprinted  on  the  fair 
hand  of  his  sovereign. 

"  Ave  Maria,  Senor !  "  exclaimed  the  damsel,  blushing 


THE  EMBARRASSMENT.  365 

still  deeper  with  confusion  and  surprise,  for  never  before 
had  she  received  such  a  salutation. 

The  modest  page  made  a  thousand  apologies,  assuring 
her  it  was  the  way  at  court  of  expressing  the  most  pro- 
found homage  and  respect. 

Her  anger,  if  anger  she  felt,  was  easily  pacified,  but 
her  agitation  and  embarrassment  continued,  and  she  sat 
blushing  deeper  and  deeper,  with  her  eyes  cast  down 
upon  her  work,  entangling  the  silk  which  she  attempted 
to  wind. 

The  cunning  page  saw  the  confusion  in  the  opposite 
camp,  and  would  fain  have  profited  by  it,  but  the  fine 
speeches  he  would  have  uttered  died  upon  his  lips ;  his 
attempts  at  gallantry  were  awkward  and  ineffectual ;  and 
to  his  surprise,  the  adroit  page,  who  had  figured  with 
such  grace  and  effrontery  among  the  most  knowing  and 
experienced  ladies  of  the  court,  found  himself  awed  and 
abashed  in  the  presence  of  a  simple  damsel  of  fifteen. 

In  fact,  the  artless  maiden,  in  her  own  modesty  and  in- 
nocence, had  guardians  more  effectual  than  the  bolts  and 
bars  prescribed  by  her  vigilant  aunt.  Still,  where  is  the 
female  bosom  proof  against  the  first  whisperings  of  love  ? 
The  little  damsel,  with  all  her  artlessness,  instinctively 
comprehended  all  that  the  faltering  tongue  of  the  page 
failed  to  express,  and  her  heart  was  fluttered  at  behold- 
ing, for  the  first  time,  a  lover  at  her  feet — and  such  a 
lover ! 

The  diffidence  of  the  page,  though  genuine,  was  short- 


366  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

lived,  and  lie  was  recovering  liis  usual  ease   and  confi- 
dence, wlien  a  shrill  voice  was  heard  at  a  distance. 

"  My  aunt  is  returning  from  mass ! "  cried  the  damsel 
in  affright :  "I  pray  you,  Seiior,  depart." 

"  Not  until  you  grant  me  that  rose  from  your  hair  as  ® 
remembrance." 

She  hastily  untwisted  the  rose  from  her  raven  locks^^ 
"Take  it,"  cried  she,  agitated  and  blushing,  "but  praf 
begone." 

The  page  took  the  rose,  and  at  the  same  time  covered 
with  kisses  the  fair  hand  that  gave  it.  Then,  placing  the 
flower  in  his  bonnet,  and  taking  the  falcon  upon  his  fist 
he  bounded  off  through  the  garden,  bearing  away  witlf 
him  the  heart  of  the  gentle  Jacinta. 

When  the  vigilant  aunt  arrived  at  the  tower,  she 
remarked  the  agitation  of  her  niece,  and  an  air  of  confu- 
sion in  the  hall ;  but  a  word  of  explanation  sufficed.  "  A 
ger-falcon  had  pursued  his  prey  into  the  hall." 

"Mercy  on  us!  to  think  of  a  falcon  flying  into  the 
tower.  Did  ever  one  hear  of  so  saucy  a  hawk?  Whyj 
the  very  bird  in  the  cage  is  not  safe  !  " 

The  vigilant  Fredegonda  was  one  of  the  most  wary  ol 
ancient  spinsters.  She  had  a  becoming  terror  and  dis- 
trust of  what  she  denominated  "  the  opposite  sex,"  which 
had  gradually  increased  through  a  long  life  of  celibacy. 
Not  that  the  good  lady  had  ever  suffered  from  their  wiles, 
nature  having  set  up  a  safeguard  in  her  face  that  forbade 
all  trespass  upon  her  premises ;  but  ladies  who  have  least 


MOONLIGHT  SERENADES.  357 

cause  to  fear  for  themselves  are  most  ready  to  keep  a 
watch  over  their  more  tempting  neighbors. 

The  niece  was  the  orphan  of  an  officer  who  had  fallen 
in  the  wars.  She  had  been  educated  in  a  convent,  and 
had  recently  been  transferred  from  her  sacred  asylum  to 
the  immediate  guardianship  of  her  aunt,  under  whose 
overshadowing  care  she  vegetated  in  obscurity,  like  an 
opening  rose  blooming  beneath  a  brier.  Nor  indeed  is 
this  comparison  entirely  accidental ;  for,  to  tell  the  truth, 
her  fresh  and  dawning  beauty  had  caught  the  public  eye, 
even  in  her  seclusion,  and,  with  that  poetical  turn  com- 
mon to  the  people  of  Andalusia,  the  peasantry  of  the 
neighborhood  had  given  her  the  appellation  of  "  the  Eose 
of  the  Alhambra." 

The  wary  aunt  continued  to  keep  a  faithful  watch  over 
her  tempting  little  niece  as  long  as  the  court  continued  at 
Granada,  and  flattered  herself  that  her  vigilance  had  been 
successful.  It  is  true  the  good  lady  was  now  and  then 
discomposed  by  the  tinkling  of  guitars  and  chanting  of 
love-ditties  from  the  moonlit  groves  beneath  the  tower ; 
but  she  would  exhort  her  niece  to  shut  her  ears  against 
such  idle  minstrelsy,  assuring  her  that  it  was  one  of  the 
arts  of  the  opposite  sex,  by  which  simple  maids  were 
often  lured  to  their  undoing.  Alas !  what  chance  with  a 
simple  maid  has  a  dry  lecture  against  a  moonlight  sere- 
nade? 

At  length  king  Philip  cut  short  his  sojourn  at  Granada, 
and  suddenly  departed  with  all  his  train.     The  vigilant 


368  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Fredegonda  watclied  the  royal  pageant  as  it  issued  forth 
from  the  Gate  of  Justice,  and  descended  the  great  avenue 
leading  to  the  city.  When  the  last  banner  disappeared 
from  her  sight,  she  returned  exulting  to  her  tower,  for  all 
her  cares  were  over.  To  her  surprise,  a  light  Arabian 
steed  pawed  the  ground  at  the  wicket-gate  of  the  garden ; 
— to  her  horror  she  saw  through  the  thickets  of  roses  a 
youth  in  gayly  embroidered  dress,  at  the  feet  of  her 
niece.  At  the  sounds  of  her  footsteps  he  gave  a  tender 
adieu,  bounded  lightly  over  the  barrier  of  reeds  and 
myrtles,  sprang  upon  his  horse,  and  was  out  of  sight  in 
an  instant. 

The  tender  Jacinta,  in  the  agony  of  her  grief,  lost  all 
thought  of  her  aunt's  displeasure.  Throwing  herself  into 
her  arms,  she  broke  forth  into  sobs  and  tears. 

"  Ay  de  mi ! "  cried  she ;  "  he's  gone ! — he's  gone ! — he's 
gone !  and  I  shall  never  see  him  more  ! " 

"  Gone  ! — who  is  gone  ? — what  youth  is  that  I  saw  at 
your  feet?" 

"A  queen's  page,  aunt,  who  came  to  bid  me  farewell." 

"  A  queen's  page,  child ! "  echoed  the  vigilant  Frede- 
gonda, faintly,  "  and  when  did  you  become  acquainted 
with  the  queen's  page?  " 

"  The  morning  that  the  ger-falcon  came  into  the  tower. 
It  was  the  queen's  ger-falcon,  and  he  came  in  pursuit 
of  it." 

"Ah  silly,  silly  girl!  know  that  there  are  no  ger-falcons 
half  so  dangerous  as  these  young  prankling  pages,  and  it 


THE  FORSAKEN  MAID.  ^  369 

is  precisely  sucli  simple  birds  as  thee  that  they  pounce 
upon." 

The  aunt  was  at  first  indignant  at  learning  that  in 
despite  of  her  boasted  vigilance,  a  tender  intercourse  had 
been  carried  on  by  the  youthful  lovers,  almost  beneath 
her  eye;  but  when  she  found  that  her  simple-hearted 
niece,  though  thus  exposed,  without  the  protection  of 
bolt  or  bar,  to  all  the  machinations  of  the  opposite  sex, 
had  come  forth  unsinged  from  the  fiery  ordeal,  she  con- 
soled herself  with  the  persuasion  that  it  was  owing  to 
the  chaste  and  cautious  maxims  in  which  she  had,  as  it 
were,  steeped  her  to  the  very  lips. 

While  the  aunt  laid  this  soothing  unction  to  her  pride, 
the  niece  treasured  up  the  oft-repeated  vows  of  fidelity 
of  the  page.  But  what  is  the  love  of  restless,  roving 
man?  A  vagrant  stream  that  dallies  for  a  time  with 
each  flower  upon  its  bank,  then  passes  on,  and  leaves 
them  all  in  tears. 

Days,  weeks,  months  elapsed,  and  nothing  more  was 
heard  of  the  page.  The  pomegranate  ripened,  the  vine 
yielded  up  its  fruit,  the  autumnal  rains  descended  in  tor- 
rents from  the  mountains ;  the  Sierra  Nevada  became 
covered  with  a  snowy  mantle,  and  wintry  blasts  howled 
through  the  halls  of  the  Alhambra — still  he  came  not. 
The  winter  passed  away.  Again  the  genial  spring  burst 
forth  with  song  and  blossom  and  balmy  zephyr;  the 
snows  melted  from  the  mountains,  until  none  remained 
but  on  the  lofty  summit  of  Nevada,  glistening  through 
34 


370  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

the  sultry  summer  air.  Still  nothing  was  heard  of  the 
forgetful  page. 

In  the  meantime  the  poor  little  Jacinta  grew  pale  and 
thoughtful.  Her  former  occupations  and  amusements 
were  abandoned,  her  silk  lay  entangled,  her  guitar  un- 
strung, her  flowers  were  neglected,  the  notes  of  her  bird 
unheeded,  and  her  eyes,  once  so  bright,  were  dimmed 
with  secret  weeping.  If  any  solitude  could  be  devised 
to  foster  the  passion  of  a  love-lorn  damsel  it  would  be 
such  a  place  as  the  Alhambra,  where  everything  seems 
disposed  to  produce  tender  and  romantic  reveries.  It  is 
a  very  paradise  for  lovers  :  how  hard  then  to  be  alone  in 
such  a  paradise — and  not  merely  alone,  but  forsaken ! 

"  Alas,  silly  child ! "  would  the  staid  and  immaculate 
Fredegonda  say,  when  she  found  her  niece  in  one  of  her 
desponding  moods — "  did  I  not  warn  thee  against  the 
wiles  and  deceptions  of  these  men?  What  couldst  thou 
expect,  too,  from  one  of  a  haughty  and  aspiring  family — 
thou  an  orphan,  the  descendant  of  a  fallen  and  impover- 
ished line?  Be  assured,  if  the  youth  were  true,  his 
father,  who  is  one  of  the  proudest  nobles  about  the 
court,  would  prohibit  his  union  with  one  so  humble  and 
portionless  as  thou.  Pluck  up  thy  resolution,  therefore, 
and  drive  these  idle  notions  from  thy  mind." 

The  words  of  the  immaculate  Fredegonda  only  served 
to  increase  the  melancholy  of  her  niece,  but  she  sought 
to  indulge  it  in  private.  At  a  late  hour  one  midsummer 
night,  after  her  aunt  had  retired  to  rest,  she  remained 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE  FOUNTAm.  37I 

alone  in  the  hall  of  the  tower,  seated  beside  the  alabas- 
ter fountain.  It  was  here  that  the  faithless  page  had 
first  knelt  and  kissed  her  hand ;  it  was  here  that  he  had 
often  Yowed  eternal  fidelity.  The  poor  little  damsel's 
heart  was  overladen  with  sad  and  tender  recollections, 
her  tears  began  to  flow,  and  slowly  fell  drop  by  drop 
into  the  fountain.  By  degrees  the  crystal  water  became 
agitated,  and — bubble — bubble — bubble — boiled  up  and 
was  tossed  about,  until  a  female  figure,  richly  clad  in 
Moorish  robes,  slowly  rose  to  view. 

Jacinta  was  so  frightened  that  she  fled  from  the  hall, 
and  did  not  venture  to  return.  The  next  morning  she 
related  what  she  had  seen  to  her  aunt,  but  the  good  lady 
treated  it  as  a  fantasy  of  her  troubled  mind,  or  supposed 
she  had  fallen  asleep  and  dreamt  beside  the  fountain. 
"Thou  hast  been  thinking  of  the  story  of  the  three 
Moorish  princesses  that  once  inhabited  this  tower,"  con- 
tinued she,  "  and  it  has  entered  into  thy  dreams." 

"  What  story,  aunt  ?     I  know  nothing  of  it." 

"Thou  hast  certainly  heard  of  the  three  princesses, 
Zayda,  Zorayda,  and  Zorahayda,  who  were  confined  in 
this  tower  by  the  king  their  father,  and  agreed  to  fly 
with  three  Christian  cavaliers.  The  two  first  accom- 
plished their  escape,  but  the  third  failed  in  her  resolu= 
tion,  and,  it  is  said,  died  in  this  tower." 

"I  now  recollect  to  have  heard  of  it,"  said  Jacinta, 
"  and  to  have  wept  over  the  fate  of  the  gentle  Zorahayda." 

"  Thou  mayest  well  weep  over  her  fate,"  continued  the 


372  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

aunt,  "  for  the  lover  of  Zoraliayda  was  thy  ancestor.  He 
long  bemoaned  his  Moorish  love  :  bnt  time  cured  him  of 
his  grief,  and  he  married  a  Spanish  lady,  from  whom 
thou  art  descended.'* 

Jacinta  ruminated  upon  these  words.  "That  what  I 
have  seen  is  no  fantasy  of  the  brain,"  said  she  to  herself, 
"  I  am  confident.  If  indeed  it  be  the  spirit  of  the  gentle 
Zorahayda,  which  I  have  heard  lingers  about  this  tower, 
of  what  should  I  be  afraid?  I'll  watch  by  the  fountain 
to-night — perhaps  the  visit  will  be  repeated." 

Towards  midnight,  when  everything  was  quiet,  she 
again  took  her  seat  in  the  hall.  As  the  bell  in  the  dis- 
tant watch-tower  of  the  Alhambra  struck  the  midnight 
hour,  the  fountain  was  again  agitated ;  and  bubble — ^bub- 
ble— ^bubble — it  tossed  about  the  waters  until  the  Moorish 
female  again  rose  to  view.  She  was  young  and  beautiful ; 
her  dress  was  rich  with  jewels,  and  in  her  hand  she  held 
a  silver  lute.  Jacinta  trembled  and  was  faint,  but  was 
reassured  by  the  soft  and  plaintive  voice  of  the  appa- 
rition, and  the  sweet  expression  of  her  pale,  melancholy 
countenance. 

"Daughter  of  mortality,"  said  she,  "what  aileth  thee? 
Why  do  thy  tears  trouble  my  fountain,  and  thy  sighs 
and  plaints  disturb  the  quiet  watches  of  the  night  ?  " 

"I  weep  because  of  the  faithlessness  of  man,  and  I 
bemoan  my  solitary  and  forsaken  state." 

"  Take  comfort ;  thy  sorrows  may  yet  have  an  end 
Thou  beholdest  a  Moorish  princess,  who,  like  thee,  was 


TEE  SILVER  LUTE.  373 

nnliappy  in  her  love.  A  Christian  knight,  thy  ancestor, 
won  my  heart,  and  would  have  borne  me  to  his  native 
land  and  to  the  bosom  of  his  chnrch.  I  was  a  convert  in 
my  heart,  but  I  lacked  courage  equal  to  my  faith,  and 
lingered  till  too  late.  For  this  the  evil  genii  are  permit- 
ted to  have  power  over  me,  and  I  remain  enchanted  in 
this  tower  until  some  pure  Christian  will  deign  to  break 
the  magic  spelL     Wilt  thou  undertake  the  task?" 

"I  will,"  replied  the  damsel,  trembling. 

"  Come  hither  then,  and  fear  not ;  dip  thy  hand  in  the 
fountain,  sprinkle  the  water  over  me,  and  baptize  me 
after  the  manner  of  thy  faith ;  so  shall  the  enchantment 
be  dispelled,  and  my  troubled  spirit  have  repose." 

The  damsel  advanced  with  faltering  steps,  dipped  her 
hand  in  the  fountain,  collected  water  in  the  palm,  and 
sprinkled  it  over  the  pale  face  of  the  phantom. 

The  latter  smiled  with  ineffable  benignity.  She 
dropped  her  silver  lute  at  the  feet  of  Jacinta,  crossed  her 
white  arms  upon  her  bosom,  and  melted  from  sight,  so 
that  it  seemed  merely  as  if  a  shower  of  dewdrops  had 
fallen  into  the  fountain. 

Jacinta  retired  from  the  hall  filled  with  awe  and  won- 
der. She  scarcely  closed  her  eyes  that  night ;  but  when 
she  awoke  at  daybreak  out  of  a  troubled  slumber,  the 
whole  appeared  to  her  like  a  distempered  dream.  On 
descending  into  the  hall,  however,  the  truth  of  the  vision 
was  established,  for  beside  the  fountain  she  beheld  the 
silver  lute  glittering  in  the  morning  sunshine. 


374  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Slie  hastened  to  her  aunt,  to  relate  all  that  had  be- 
fallen her,  and  called  her  to  behold  the  lute  as  a  testi- 
monial of  the  reality  of  her  story.  If  the  good  lady  had 
any  lingering  doubts,  they  were  removed  when  Jacinta 
touched  the  instrument,  for  she  drew  forth  such  ravish- 
ing tones  as  to  thaw  even  the  frigid  bosom  of  the  im- 
maculate Fredegonda,  that  region  of  eternal  winter,  into 
a  genial  flow.  Nothing  but  supernatural  melody  could 
have  produced  such  an  effect. 

The  extraordinary  power  of  the  lute  became  every  day 
more  and  more  apparent.  The  wayfarer  passing  by  the 
tower  was  detained,  and,  as  it  were,  spell  -  bound  in 
breathless  ecstasy.  The  very  birds  gathered  in  the 
neighboring  trees,  and  hushing  their  own  strains,  lis- 
tened in  charmed  silence. 

Rumor  soon  spread  the  news  abroad.  The  inhabitants 
of  Granada  thronged  to  the  Alhambra  to  catch  a  few 
notes  of  the  transcendent  music  that  floated  about  the 
tower  of  Las  Infantas. 

The  lovely  little  minstrel  was  at  length  drawn  forth 
from  her  retreat.  The  rich  and  powerful  of  the  land 
contended  who  should  entertain  and  do  honor  to  her ;  or 
rather,  who  should  secure  the  charms  of  her  lute  to  draw 
fashionable  throngs  to  their  saloons.  "Wherever  she 
went  her  vigilant  aunt  kept  a  dragon  watch  at  her  elbow, 
awing  the  throngs  of  impassioned  admirers  who  hung  in 
raptures  on  her  strains.  The  report  of  her  wonderful 
powers  spread  from  city  to  city.     Malaga,  Seville,  Cor- 


ROYAL  MEGRl'MB.  375 

dova,  all  became  successively  mad  on  the  theme ;  nothing 
was  talked  of  throughout  Andalusia  hut  the  beautiful 
minstrel  of  the  Alhambra.  How  could  it  be  otherwise 
among  a  people  so  musical  and  gallant  as  the  Andalu- 
sians,  when  the  lute  was  magical  in  its  powers,  and  the 
minstrel  inspired  bj  love ! 

While  all  Andalusia  was  thus  music  mad,  a  differ- 
ent mood  prevailed  at  the  court  of  Spain.  Philip  Y., 
as  is  well  known,  was  a  miserable  hypochondriac,  and 
subject  to  all  kinds  of  fancies.  Sometimes  he  would 
keep  to  his  bed  for  weeks  together,  groaning  under 
imaginary  complaints.  At  other  times  he  would  insist 
upon  abdicating  his  throne,  to  the  great  annoyance  of 
his  royal  spouse,  who  had  a  strong  relish  for  the  splen- 
dors of  a  court  and  the  glories  of  a  crown,  and  guided 
the  sceptre  of  her  imbecile  lord  with  an  expert  and 
steady  hand. 

Nothing  was  found  to  be  so  efficacious  in  dispelling 
the  royal  megrims  as  the  power  of  music;  the  queen 
took  care,  therefore,  to  have  the  best  performers,  both  vo- 
cal and  instrumental,  at  hand,  and  retained  the  famous 
Italian  singer  Farinelli  about  the  court  as  a  kind  of  royal 
physician. 

At  the  moment  we  treat  of,  however,  a  freak  had  come 
over  the  mind  of  this  sapient  and  illustrious  Bour- 
bon that  surpassed  all  former  vagaries.  After  a  long 
spell  of  imaginary  illness,  which  set  all  the  strains  of 
Farinelli  and  the  consultations  of  a  whole  orchestra  of 


876  THE  ALHAMBUA. 

court  fiddlers  at  defiance,  the  monarcli  fairly,  in  idea, 
gave  up  the  ghost,  and  considered  himself  absolutely 
dead. 

This  would  have  been  harmless  enough,  and  even  con- 
venient both  to  his  queen  and  courtiers,  had  he  been 
content  to  remain  in  the  quietude  befitting  a  dead  man ; 
but  to  their  annoyance  he  insisted  upon  having  the  fu- 
neral ceremonies  performed  over  him,  and,  to  their  in- 
expressible perplexity,  began  to  grow  impatient,  and  to 
revile  bitterly  at  them  for  negligence  and  disrespect,  in 
leaving  him  unburied.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  To  dis- 
obey the  king's  positive  commands  was  monstrous  in  the 
eyes  of  the  obsequious  courtiers  of  a  punctilious  court 
— ^but  to  obey  him,  and  bury  him  alive  would  be  down- 
right regicide  ! 

In  the  midst  of  this  fearful  dilemma  a  rumor  reached 
the  court  of  the  female  minstrel  who  was  turning  the 
brains  of  all  Andalusia.  The  queen  dispatched  missions 
in  all  haste  to  summon  her  to  St.  Ildefonso,  where  the 
court  at  that  time  resided. 

Within  a  few  days,  as  the  queen  with  her  maids  of 
honor  was  walking  in  those  stately  gardens,  intended, 
with  their  avenues  and  terraces  and  fountains,  to  eclipse 
the  glories  of  Versailles,  the  far-famed  minstrel  was  con- 
ducted into  her  presence.  The  imperial  Elizabetta  gazed 
with  surprise  at  the  youthful  and  unpretending  appear- 
ance of  the  little  being  that  had  set  the  world  madding. 
She  was  in  her  picturesque  Andalusian  dress,  her  silver 


THE  WOULD-BE-BURIED  MONARCH.  377 

lute  in  hand,  and  stood  with  modest  and  downcast  eyes, 
but  with  a  simplicity  and  freshness  of  beauty  that  still 
bespoke  her  "the  Kose  of  the  Alhambra." 

As  usual  she  was  accompanied  by  the  ever-yigilant 
Fredegonda,  who  gave  the  whole  history  of  her  parent- 
age and  descent  to  the  inquiring  queen.  If  the  stately 
Elizabetta  had  been  interested  by  the  appearance  of  Ja- 
cinta,  she  was  still  more  pleased  when  she  learnt  that 
she  was  of  a  meritorious  though  impoverished  line,  and 
that  her  father  had  bravely  fallen  in  the  service  of  the 
crown.  "If  thy  powers  equal  thy  renown,"  said  she, 
"  and  thou  canst  cast  forth  this  evil  spirit  that  possesses 
thy  sovereign,  thy  fortunes  shall  henceforth  be  my  care, 
and  honors  and  wealth  attend  thee." 

Impatient  to  make  trial  of  her  skill,  she  led  the  way  at 
once  to  the  apartment  of  the  moody  monarch. 

Jacinta  followed  with  downcast  eyes  through  files  of 
guards  and  crowds  of  courtiers.  They  arrived  at  length 
at  a  great  chamber  hung  with  black.  The  windows  were 
closed  to  exclude  the  light  of  day  :  a  number  of  yellow 
wax  tapers  in  silver  sconces  diffused  a  lugubrious  light, 
and  dimly  revealed  the  figures  of  mutes  in  mourning 
dresses,  and  courtiers  who  glided  about  with  noiseless 
step  and  woe-begone  visage.  In  the  midst  of  a  funeral 
bed  or  bier,  his  hands  folded  on  his  breast,  and  the  tip 
of  his  nose  just  visible,  lay  extended  this  would-be- 
buried  monarch. 

The  queen  entered  the  chamber  in  silence,  and  point- 


378  THE  ALHAMBllA. 

ing  to  a  footstool  in  an  obscure  corner,  beckoned  to  Ja- 
cinta  to  sit  down  and  commence. 

At  first  she  touched  her  lute  with  a  faltering  hand,  but 
gathering  confidence  and  animaLion  as  she  proceeded, 
drew  forth  such  soft  aerial  harmony,  that  all  present 
could  scarce  believe  it  mortal.  As  to  the  monarch,  who 
had  already  considered  himself  in  the  world  of  spirits, 
he  set  it  down  for  some  angelic  melody  or  the  music  of 
the  spheres.  By  degrees  the  theme  was  varied,  and  the 
voice  of  the  minstrel  accompanied  the  instrument.  She 
poured  forth  one  of  the  legendary  ballads  treating  of  the 
ancient  glories  of  the  Alhambra  and  the  achievements  of 
the  Moors.  Her  whole  soul  entered  into  the  theme,  for 
with  the  recollections  of  the  Alhambra  was  associated  the 
story  of  her  love.  The  funeral-chamber  resounded  with 
the  animating  strain.  It  entered  into  the  gloomy  heart  of 
the  monarch.  He  raised  his  head  and  gazed  around  :  he 
sat  up  on  his  couch,  his  eye  began  to  kindle — at  length, 
leaping  upon  the  floor,  he  called  for  sword  and  buckler. 

The  triumph  of  music,  or  rather  of  the  enchanted  lute, 
was  complete  ;  the  demon  of  melancholy  was  cast  forth ; 
and,  as  it  were,  a  dead  man  brought  to  life.  The  win- 
dows of  the  apartment  were  thrown  open ;  the  glorious 
effulgence  of  Spanish  sunshine  burst  into  the  late  lu- 
gubrious chamber ;  all  eyes  sought  the  lovely  enchan- 
tress, but  the  lute  had  fallen  from  her  hand,  she  had 
sunk  upon  the  earth,  and  the  next  moment  was  clasped 
to  the  bosom  of  Euyz  de  Alarcon. 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  MUSIC.  379 

The  nuptials  of  the  happy  couple  were  celebrated  soon 
afterwards  with  great  splendor,  and  the  rose  of  the  Al- 
hambra  became  the  ornament  and  delight  of  the  court. 
"  But  hold — not  so  fast " — I  hear  the  reader  exclaim  ; 
"  this  is  jumping  to  the  end  of  a  story  at  a  furious  rate  1 
First  let  us  know  how  Euyz  de  Alarcon  managed  to  ac- 
count to  Jacinta  for  his  long  neglect  ?  "  Nothing  more 
easy ;  the  venerable,  time-honored  excuse,  the  opposition 
to  his  wishes  by  a  proud,  pragmatical  old  father  :  be- 
sides, young  people  who  really  like  one  another  soon 
come  to  an  amicable  understanding,  and  bury  all  past 
grievances  when  once  they  meet. 

But  how  was  the  proud,  pragmatical  old  father  recon- 
ciled to  the  match  ? 

Oh  !  as  to  that,  his  scruples  were  easily  overcome  by  a 
word  or  two  from  the  queen  ;  especially  as  dignities  and 
rewards  were  showered  upon  the  blooming  favorite  of 
royalty.  Besides,  the  lute  of  Jacinta,  you  know,  pos- 
sessed a  magic  power,  and  could  control  the  most  stub- 
born head  and  hardest  breast. 

And  what  came  of  the  enchanted  lute  ? 

Oh,  that  is  the  most  curious  matter  of  all,  and  plainly 
proves  the  truth  of  the  whole  story.  That  lute  remained 
for  some  time  in  the  family,  but  was  purloined  and  car- 
ried off,  as  was  supposed,  by  the  great  singer  Farinelli, 
in  pure  jealousy.  At  his  death  it  passed  into  other 
hands  in  Italy,  who  were  ignorant  of  its  mystic  powers, 
and  melting  down  the  silver,  transferred  the  strings  to  an 


390  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

old  Cremona  fiddle.  The  strings  still  retain  something 
of  their  magic  virtues.  A  word  in  the  reader's  ear,  but 
let  it  go  no  further :  that  fiddle  is  now  bewitching  the 
whole  world, — ^it  is  the  fiddle  of  Paganini  I 


THE    VETERAN. 

M0N6-  the  curious  acquaintances  I  made  in  my 
rambles  about  the  fortress,  was  a  brave  and 
battered  old  colonel  of  Invalids,  who  was  nes- 
tled like  a  hawk  in  one  of  the  Moorish  towers.  His  his- 
tory, which  he  was  fond  of  telling,  was  a  tissue  of  those 
adventures,  mishaps,  and  vicissitudes  that  render  the  life 
of  almost  every  Spaniard  of  note  as  varied  and  whimsical 
as  the  pages  of  Gil  Bias. 

He  was  in  America  at  twelve  years  of  age,  and  reck- 
oned among  the  most  signal  and  fortunate  events  of  his 
life,  his  having  seen  General  Washington.  Since  then  he 
had  taken  a  part  in  all  the  wars  of  his  country ;  he  could 
speak  experimentally  of  most  of  the  prisons  and  dun- 
geons of  the  Peninsula  ;  had  been  lamed  of  one  leg,  crip- 
pled in  his  hands,  and  so  cut  up  and  carbonadoed  that 
he  was  a  kind  of  walking  monument  of  the  troubles  of 
Spain,  on  which  there*  was  a  scar  for  every  battle  and 
broil,  as  every  year  of  captivity  was  notched  upon  the 
tree  of  Eobinson  Crusoe.  The  greatest  misfortune  of 
the  brave  old  cavalier,  however,  appeared  to  have  been 
his  having  commanded  at  Malaga  during  a  time  of  peril 

381 


382  ^'^^  ALHAMBRA. 

and  confusion,  and  been  made  a  general  by  the  inhabit- 
ants, to  protect  them  from  the  invasion  of  the  French. 
This  had  entailed  upon  him  a  number  of  just  claims 
upon  government,  that  I  feared  would  employ  him  until 
his  dying  day  in  writing  and  printing  petitions  and  me- 
morials, to  the  great  disquiet  of  his  mind,  exhaustion  of 
his  purse,  and  penance  of  his  friends ;  not  one  of  whom 
could  visit  him  without  having  to  listen  to  a  mortal  doc- 
ument of  half  an  hour  in  length,  and  to  carry  away  half 
a  dozen  pamphlets  in  his  pocket.  This,  however,  is  the 
case  throughout  Spain ;  everywhere  you  meet  with  some 
worthy  wight  brooding  in  a  corner,  and  nursing  up  some 
pet  grievance  and  cherished  wrong.  Besides,  a  Spaniard 
who  has  a  lawsuit,  or  a  claim  upon  government,  may  be 
considered  as  furnished  with  employment  for  the  remain- 
der of  his  life. 

I  visited  the  veteran  in  his  quarters  in  the  upper  part 
of  the  Torre  del  Yino,  or  Wine  Tower.  His  room  was 
small  but  snug,  and  commanded  a  beautiful  view  of  the 
Vega.  It  was  arranged  with  a  soldier's  precision.  Three 
muskets  and  a  brace  of  pistols,  all  bright  and  shining, 
were  suspended  against  the  wall,  with  a  sabre  and  a  cane 
hanging  side  by  side,  and  above  them  two  cocked  hats, 
one  for  parade,  and  one  for  ordinary  use.  A  small  shelf, 
containing  some  half  dozen  books,  formed  his  library, 
one  of  which,  a  little  old  mouldy  volume  of  philosophical 
maxims,  was  his  favorite  reading.  This  he  thumbed  and 
pondered  over  day  by  day  ;  applying  every  maxim  to  his 


TEE    VETERAN.  383 

own  particular  case,  provided  it  had  a  little  tinge  of 
wholesome  bitterness,  and  treated  of  the  injustice  of  the 
world. 

Yet  he  was  social  and  kind-hearted,  and,  provided  he 
could  be  diverted  from  his  wrongs  and  his  philosophy, 
was  an  entertaining  companion.  I  like  these  old  weath- 
er-beaten sons  of  fortune,  and  enjoy  their  rough  cam- 
paigning anecdotes.  In  the  course  of  my  visits  to  the 
one  in  question,  I  learnt  some  curious  facts  about  an  old 
military  commander  of  the  fortress,  who  seems  to  have 
resembled  him  in  some  respects,  and  to  have  had  similar 
fortunes  in  the  wars.  These  particulars  have  been  aug- 
mented by  inquiries  among  some  of  the  old  inhabitants 
of  the  place,  particularly  the  father  of  Mateo  Ximenes,  of 
whose  traditional  stories  the  worthy  I  am  about  tc  intro 
duce  to  the  reader  was  a  favorite  hero. 


THE  GOYERNOE  AND  THE  NOTARY. 

N  former  times  there  ruled,  as  governor  of  the 
Alhambra,  a  doughty  old  cayalier,  who,  from 
having  lost  one  arm  in  the  wars,  was  commonly 
known  by  the  name  of  el  Gobernador  Manco,  or  "the 
one-armed  governor."  He  in  fact  prided  himself  upon 
being  an  old  soldier,  wore  his  moustaches  curled  up  to 
his  eyes,  a  pair  of  campaigning  boots,  and  a  toledo  as 
long  as  a  spit,  with  his  pocket-handkerchief  in  the  bas- 
ket-hilt. 

He  was,  moreover,  exceedingly  proud  and  punctilious, 
and  tenacious  of  all  his  privileges  and  dignities.  Under 
his  sway  the  immunities  of  the  Alhambra,  as  a  royal 
residence  and  domain,  were  rigidly  exacted.  No  one  was 
permitted  to  enter  the  fortress  with  fire-arms,  or  even 
with  a  sword  or  staff,  unless  he  were  of  a  certain  rank ; 
and  every  horseman  was  obliged  to  dismount  at  the  gate, 
and  lead  his  horse  by  the  bridle.  Now  as  the  hill  of  the 
Alhambra  rises  from  the  very  midst  of  the  city  of  Gra- 
nada, being,  as  it  were,  an  excrescence  of  the  capital,  it 
must  at  all  times  be  somewhat  irksome  to  the  captain- 
general,  who  commands  the  province,  to  have  thus  an 

384 


RIVAL  POTENTATES.  385 

imperium  in  imperio,  a  petty  independent  post  in  the  very 
centre  of  his  domains.  It  was  rendered  the  more  galling, 
in  the  present  instance,  from  the  irritable  jealousy  of  the 
old  governor,  that  took  fire  on  the  least  question  of 
authority  and  jurisdiction ;  and  from  the  loose  vagrant 
character  of  the  people  who  had  gradually  nestled  them- 
selves within  the  fortress,  as  in  a  sanctuary,  and  thence 
carried  on  a  system  of  roguery  and  depredation  at  the 
expense  of  the  honest  inhabitants  of  the  city. 

Thus  there  was  a  perpetual  feud  and  heart-burning  be- 
tween the  captain-general  and  the  governor,  the  more 
virulent  on  the  part  of  the  latter,  inasmuch  as  the 
smallest  of  two  neighboring  potentates  is  always  the 
most  captious  about  his  dignity.  The  stately  palace  of 
the  captain- general  stood  in  the  Plaza  Nueva,  immedi- 
ately at  the  foot  of  the  hill  of  the  Alhambra ;  and  here 
was  always  a  bustle  and  parade  of  guards,  and  domestics, 
and  city  functionaries.  A  beetling  bastion  of  the  fortress 
overlooked  the  palace  and  public  square  in  front  of  it ; 
and  on  this  bastion  the  old  governor  would  occasionally 
strut  backwards  and  forwards,  with  his  toledo  girded  by 
his  side,  keeping  a  wary  eye  down  upon  his  rival,  like  a 
hawk  reconnoitring  his  quarrry  from  his  nest  in  a  dry  tree. 

Whenever  he  descended  into  the  city,  it  was  in  grand 
parade  ;  on  horseback,  surrounded  by  his  guards ;  or  in 
his  state  coach,  an  ancient  and  unwieldy  Spanish  edifice 
of  carved  timber  and  gilt  leather,  drawn  by  eight  mules, 
with  running  footmen,  outriders,  and  lackeys ;  on  which 
25 


386  "THE  ALHAMBRA. 

occasions  lie  flattered  himself  he  impressed  every  be* 
holder  with  awe  and  admiration  as  vicegerent  of  the 
king;  though  the  wits  of  Granada,  particularly  those 
who  loitered  about  the  palace  of  the  captain-general, 
were  apt  to  sneer  at  his  petty  parade,  and,  in  allusion  to 
the  vagrant  character  of  his  subjects,  to  greet  him  with 
the  appellation  of  "the  king  of  the  beggars."  One  of 
the  most  fruitful  sources  of  dispute  between  these  two 
doughty  rivals  was  the  right  claimed  by  the  governor  to 
have  all  things  passed  free  of  duty  through  the  city  that 
were  intended  for  the  use  of  himself  or  his  garrison. 
By  degrees  this  privilege  had  given  rise  to  extensive 
smuggling.  A  nest  of  contrabandistas  took  up  their 
abode  in  the  hovels  of  the  fortress  and  the  numerous 
caves  in  its  vicinity,  and  drove  a  thriving  business  under 
the  connivance  of  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison. 

The  vigilance  of  the  captain-general  was  aroused.  He 
consulted  his  legal  adviser  and  factotum,  a  shrewd  med- 
dlesome escribano,  or  notary,  who  rejoiced  in  an  oppor- 
tunity of  perplexing  the  old  potentate  of  the  Alhambra, 
and  involving  him  in  a  maze  of  legal  subtleties.  He  ad- 
vised the  captain-general  to  insist  upon  the  right  of  ex- 
amining every  convoy  passing  through  the  gates  of  his 
city,  and  penned  a  long  letter  for  him  in  vindication  of 
the  right.  Governor  Manco  was  a  straightforward  cut- 
and-thrust  old  soldier,  who  hated  an  escribano  worse 
than  the  devil,  and  this  one  in  particular  worse  than  all 
other  escribanos. 


THE  BU8TY  CORPORAL.  387 

"  What ! "  said  lie,  curling  up  his  mousia^hes  fiercely, 
"  does  the  captain-general  set  his  man  of  the  pen  to 
practise  confusions  upon  me  ?  I'll  let  him  see  an  old  sol- 
dier is  not  to  be  baffled  by  schoolcraft." 

He  seized  his  pen  and  scrawled  a  short  letter  in  a 
crabbed  hand,  in  which,  without  deigning  to  enter  into 
argument,  he  insisted  on  the  right  of  transit  free  of 
search,  and  denounced  vengeance  on  any  custom-house 
officer  who  should  lay  his  unhallowed  hand  on  any  con- 
voy protected  by  the  flag  of  the  Alhambra.  While  this 
question  was  agitated  between  the  two  pragmatical  po- 
tentates, it  so  happened  that  a  mule  laden  with  supplies 
for  the  fortress  arrived  one  day  at  the  gate  of  Xenil,  by 
which  it  was  to  traverse  a  suburb  of  the  city  on  its  way 
to  the  Alhambra.  The  convoy  was  headed  by  a  testy  old 
corporal,  who  had  long  served  under  the  governor,  and 
was  a  man  after  his  own  heart ;  as  rusty  and  stanch  as  an 
old  Toledo  blade. 

As  they  approached  the  gate  of  the  city,  the  corporal 
placed  the  banner  of  the  Alhambra  on  the  pack-saddle 
of  the  mule,  and  drawing  himself  up  to  a  perfect  per- 
pendicular, advanced  with  his  head  dressed  to  the  front, 
but  with  the  wary  side-glance  of  a  cur  passing  through 
hostile  ground  and  ready  for  a  snap  and  a  snarl. 

"Who  goes  there?"  said  the  sentinel  at  the  gate. 

"  Soldier  of  the  Alhambra !  "  said  the  corpora^  Without 
turning  his  head. 

"  What  have  you  m  charge  ?  " 


388  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

"Provisions  for  the  garrison." 

"  Proceed." 

The  corporal  marched  straight  forward,  followed  bj 
the  convoy,  but  had  not  advanced  many  paces  before  a 
posse  of  custom-house  officers  rushed  out  of  a  small  toll- 
house. 

"Hallo  there!"  cried  the  leader.  "Muleteer,  halt,  and 
open  those  packages." 

The  corporal  wheeled  round  and  drew  himself  up  in 
battle  array.  "Eespect  the  flag  of  the  Alhambra,"  said 
he  ;  "  these  things  are  for  the  governor." 

"  A  figo  for  the  governor  and  a  figo  for  his  flag.  Mule- 
teer, halt,  I  say." 

"  Stop  the  convoy  at  your  peril ! "  cried  the  corporal, 
cocking  his  musket.     "Muleteer,  proceed." 

The  muleteer  gave  his  beast  a  hearty  thwack;  the 
custom-house  officer  sprang  forward  and  seized  the  hal- 
ter ;  whereupon  the  corporal  levelled  his  piece  and  shot 
him  dead. 

The  street  was  immediately  in  an  uproar. 

The  old  corporal  was  seized,  and  after  undergoing 
sundry  kicks,  and  cuffs,  and  cudgellings,  which  are  gen- 
erally given  impromptu  by  the  mob  in  Spain  as  a  fore- 
taste of  the  after  penalties  of  the  law,  he  was  loaded  with 
irons  and  conducted  to  the  city  prison,  while  his  com- 
rades were  permitted  to  proceed  with  the  convoy,  after  it 
had  been  well  rummaged,  to  the  Alhambra. 

The  old  governor  was  in  a  towering  passion  when  he 


A    SOLDIER    OF   THE    ALHAMBRA. 


LEGAL   TILTING.  369 

heard  of  this  insult  to  his  flag  and  capture  of  his  cor- 
poral. For  a  time  he  stormed  about  the  Moorish  halls, 
and  vapored  about  the  bastions,  and  looked  down  fire 
and  sword  upon  the  palace  of  the  captain-general.  Hav- 
ing vented  the  first  ebullition  of  his  wrath,  he  dis- 
patched  a  message  demanding  the  surrender  of  the  cor- 
poral, as  to  him  alone  belonged  the  right  of  sitting  in 
judgment  on  the  offences  of  those  under  his  command. 
The  captain-general,  aided  by  the  pen  of  the  delighted 
escribano,  replied  at  great  length,  arguing,  that,  as  the 
offence  had  been  committed  within  the  walls  of  his  city, 
and  against  one  of  his  civil  officers,  it  was  clearly  within 
his  proper  jurisdiction.  The  governor  rejoined  by  a  re- 
petition of  his  demand ;  the  captain-general  gave  a  sur- 
rejoinder of  still  greater  length  and  legal  acumen;  the 
governor  became  hotter  and  more  peremptory  in  his  de- 
mands, and  the  captain-general  cooler  and  more  copious 
in  his  replies;  until  the  old  lion-hearted  soldier  abso- 
lutely roared  with  fury  at  being  thus  entangled  in  the 
meshes  of  legal  controversy. 

While  the  subtle  escribano  was  thus  amusing  himself 
at  the  expense  of  the  governor,  he  was  conducting  the 
trial  of  the  corporal,  who,  mewed  up  in  a  narrow  dun- 
geon of  the  prison,  had  merely  a  small  grated  window  at 
which  to  show  his  iron-bound  visage  and  receive  the 
consolations  of  his  friends. 

A  mountain  of  written  testimony  was  diligently  heaped 
up,  according  to  Spanish  form,  by  the  indefatigable  escri- 


390  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

bano ;  tlie  corporal  was  completely  OYerwhelmed  by  it. 
He  was  convicted  of  murder,  and  sentenced  to  be  hanged. 

It  was  in  vain  the  governor  sent  down  remonstrance 
and  menace  from  the  Alhambra.  The  fatal  day  was  at 
hand,  and  the  corporal  was  put  in  capilla,  that  is  to  say, 
in  the  chapel  of  the  prison,  as  is  always  done  with  cul- 
prits the  day  before  execution,  that  they  may  meditate 
on  their  approaching  end  and  repent  them  of  their  sins. 

Seeing  things  drawing  to  extremity,  the  old  governor 
determined  to  attend  to  the  affair  in  person.  For  this 
purpose  he  ordered  out  his  carriage  of  state,  and,  sur- 
rounded by  his  guards,  rumbled  down  the  avenue  of  the 
Alhambra  into  the  city.  Driving  to  the  house  of  the  es- 
cribano,  he  summoned  him  to  the  portal. 

The  eye  of  the  old  governor  gleamed  like  a  coal  at 
beholding  the  smirking  man  of  the  law  advancing  with 
an  air  of  exultation. 

*'What  is  this  I  hear,"  cried  he,  "that  you  are  about 
to  put  to  death  one  of  my  soldiers  ?  " 

"All  according  to  law — all  in  strict  form  of  justice," 
said  the  self-sufficient  escribano,  chuckling  and  rubbing 
his  hands  ;  "I  can  show  your  Excellency  the  written 
testimony  in  the  case." 

"Fetch  it  hither,"  said  the  governor.  The  escribano 
bustled  into  his  office,  delighted  with  having  another  op- 
portunity of  displaying  his  ingenuity  at  the  expense  of 
the  hard-headed  veteran.  He  returned  with  a  satchel 
full  of  papers,  and  began  to  read  a  long  deposition  with 


THE  RIVAL   0IBBET8.  391 

professional  volubility.  By  this  time  a  crowd  had  col- 
lected, listening  with  outstretched  necks  and  gaping 
mouths. 

"  Prithee,  man,  get  into  the  carriage,  out  of  this  pesti- 
lent throng,  that  I  may  the  better  hear  thee,"  said  the 
governor. 

The  escribano  entered  the  carriage,  when,  in  a  twink- 
ling, the  door  was  closed,  the  coachman  smacked  his 
whip, — mules,  carriage,  guards,  and  all  dashed  off  at  a 
thundering  rate,  leaving  the  crowd  in  gaping  wonder- 
ment; nor  did  the  governor  pause  until  he  had  lodged 
his  prey  in  one  of  the  strongest  dungeons  of  the  Alham- 
bra. 

He  then  sent  down  a  flag  of  truce  in  military  style, 
proposing  a  cartel,  or  exchange  of  prisoners, — the  cor- 
poral for  the  notary.  The  pride  of  the  captain-general 
was  piqued ;  he  returned  a  contemptuous  refusal,  and 
forthwith  caused  a  gallows,  tall  and  strong,  to  be  erected 
in  the  centre  of  the  Plaza  Nueva  for  the  execution  of  the 
corporal. 

"  Oho !  is  that  the  game  ?  "  said  Governor  Manco. 
He  gave  orders,  and  immediately  a  gibbet  was  reared  on 
the  verge  of  the  great  beetling  bastion  that  overlooked 
the  Plaza.  "  Now,"  said  he,  in  a  message  to  the  captain- 
general,  "  hang  my  soldier  when  you  please ;  but  at  the 
same  time  that  he  is  swung  off  in  the  square,  look  up  to 
see  your  escribano  dangling  against  the  sky.' 

The  captain-general  was  inflexible  ;  troops  were  pa- 


392  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

raded  in  tlie  square  ;  the  drums  beat,  the  bell  tolled.  An 
immense  multitude  of  amateurs  gathered  together  to 
behold  the  execution.  On  the  other  hand,  the  governor 
paraded  his  garrison  on  the  bastion,  and  tolled  the  fun- 
eral dirge  of  the  notary  from  the  Torre  de  la  Campana, 
or  Tower  of  the  Bell. 

The  notary's  wife  pressed  through  the  crowd,  with  a 
whole  progeny  of  little  embryo  escribanos  at  her  heels, 
and  throwing  herself  at  the  feet  of  the  captain-general, 
implored  him  not  to  sacrifice  the  life  of  her  husband, 
and  the  welfare  of  herself  and  her  numerous  little  ones, 
to  a  point  of  pride  ;  "for  you  know  the  old  governor  too 
well,"  said  she,  "  to  doubt  that  he  will  put  his  threat  in 
execution,  if  you  hang  the  soldier." 

The  captain-general  was  overpowered  by  her  tears  and 
lamentations,  and  the  clamors  of  her  callow  brood.  The 
corporal  was  sent  up  to  the  Alhambra,  under  a  guard,  in 
his  gallows  garb,  like  a  hooded  friar,  but  with  head  erect 
and  a  face  of  iron.  The  escribano  was  demanded  in  ex- 
change, according  to  the  cartel.  The  once  bustling  and 
self-sufficient  man  of  the  law  was  drawn  forth  from  his 
dungeon  more  dead  than  alive.  All  his  flippa^y  and 
conceit  had  evaporated  ;  his  hair,  it  is  said,  had  nearly 
turned  gray  with  affright,  and  he  had  a  downcast, 
dogged  look,  as  if  he  still  felt  the  halter  round  his 
neck. 

The  old  governor  stuck  his  one  arm  akimbo,  and  for  a 
moment  surveyed  him  with  an  iron  smile.     "  Henceforth 


PARTING  AB  VIVE.  393 

my  friend,"  said  he,  "  moderate  your  zeal  in  hurrying 
others  to  the  gallows ;  be  not  too  certain  of  your  safety, 
even  though  you  should  have  the  law  on  your  side ;  and 
above  all,  take  care  how  you  play  off  your  Schoolcraft 
another  time  upon  an  old  soldier." 


GOVEENOR  MANCO  AND  THE  SOLDIER. 


HILE  Governor  Manco,  or  "  the  one-armed," 
kept  up  a  show  of  military  state  in  the  Alham- 
bra,  he  became  nettled  at  the  reproaches  con- 
tinually cast  upon  his  fortress,  of  being  a  nestling-place 
of  rogues  and  contrabandistas.  On  a  sudden,  the  old 
potentate  determined  on  reform,  and  setting  vigorously 
to  work,  ejected  whole  nests  of  vagabonds  out  of  the 
fortress  and  the  gypsy  caves  with  which  the  surrounding 
hills  are  honeycombed.  He  sent  out  soldiers,  also,  td^, 
patrol  the  avenues  and  footpaths,  with  orders  to  take  up  * 
all  suspicious  persons. 

One  bright  summer  morning  a  patrol,  consisting  of  the 
testy  old  corporal  who  had  distinguished  himself  in  the 
affair  of  the  notary,  a  trumpeter,  and  two  privates,  was 
seated  under  the  garden-wall  of  the  Generalife,  beside 
the  road  which  leads  down  from  the  Mountain  of  the 
Sun,  when  they  heard  the  tramp  of  a  horse,  and  a  male 
voice  singing  in  rough,  though  not  unmusical  tones,  an 
old  Castilian  campaigning-song. 

Presently  they  beheld  a  sturdy,  sunburnt  fellow,  clad 
in  the  ragged  garb  of  a  foot-soldier,  leading  a  power- 

394 


THE  SOLDIER  AND  THE  PATROL.  395 

ful  Arabian  horse  caparisoned  in  the  ancient  Morisco 
fashion. 

Astonished  at  the  sight  of  a  strange  soldier  descend- 
ing, steed  in  hand,  from  that  solitary  mountain,  the  cor- 
poral stepped  forth  and  challenged  him. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  " 

"A  friend." 

*' Who  and  what  are  you?" 

"A  poor  soldier  just  from  the  wars,  with  a  cracked 
crown  and  empty  purse  for  a  reward." 

By  this  time  they  were  enabled  to  view  him  more  nar- 
rowly. He  had  a  black  patch  across  his  forehead,  which, 
with  a  grizzled  beard,  added  to  a  certain  dare-devil  cast 
of  countenance,  while  a  slight  squint  threw  into  the 
whole  an  occasional  gleam  of  roguish  good-humor. 

Haying  answered  the  questions  of  the  patrol,  the  sol- 
dier seemed  to  consider  himself  entitled  to  make  others 
in  return.  "May  I  ask,",  said  he,  "what  city  is  that 
which  I  see  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  ?  " 

"  What  city !  "  cried  the  trumpeter  ;  "  come,  that's  too 
bad.  Here's  a  fellow  lurking  about  the  Mountain  of  the 
Sun,  and  demands  the  name  of  the  great  city  of  Gra- 
nada!" 

"  Granada  !     Madre  di  Dios !  can  it  be  possible  ?  " 

"Perhaps  not!"  rejoined  the  trumpeter;  "and  per- 
haps you  have  no  idea  that  yonder  are  the  towers  of  the 
Alhambra." 

"  Son  of  a  trumpet,"  replied  the  stranger,  "do  not  trifle 


396  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

with  me ;  if  this  be  indeed  the  Alhambra,  I  have  some 
strange  matters  to  reveal  to  the  governor." 

"You  will  have  an  opportunity,"  said  the  corporal, 
"for  we  mean  to  take  you  before  him."  By  this  time 
the  trumpeter  had  seized  the  bridle  of  the  steed,  the 
two  privates  had  each  secured  an  arm  of  the  soldier,  the 
corporal  put  himself  in  front,  gave  the  word,  "  Forward 
— march  !  "  and  away  they  marched  for  the  Alhambra. 

The  sight  of  a  ragged  foot-soldier  and  a  fine  Arabian 
horse,  brought  in  captive  by  the  patrol,  attracted  the  at- 
tention of  all  the  idlers  of  the  fortress,  and  of  those  gos- 
sip groups  that  generally  assemble  about  wells  and  foun- 
tains at  early  dawn.  The  wheel  of  the  cistern  paused  in 
its  rotations,  and  the  slip-shod  servant-maid  stood  gap- 
ing, with  pitcher  in  hand,  as  the  corporal  passed  by  with 
his  prize.  A  motley  train  gradually  gathered  in  the  rear 
of  the  escort. 

Knowing  nods  and  winks  and  conjectures  passed  from 
one  to  another.  "  It  is  a  deserter,"  said  one ;  "  A  con- 
trabandista,"  said  another;  "A  bandolero,"  said  a  third; 
— until  it  was  affirmed  that  a  captain  of  a  desperate  band 
of  robbers  had  been  captured  by  the  prowess  of  the  cor- 
poral and  his  patrol.  "Well,  well,"  said  the  old  crones, 
one  to  another,  "  captain  or  not,  let  him  get  out  of  the 
grasp  of  old  Governor  Manco  if  he  can,  though  he  is  but 
one-handed." 

Governor  Manco  was  seated  in  one  of  the  inner  halls 
of  the  Alhambra,  taking  his  morning's  cup  of  chocolate 


THE  GOVERNOR  IN  COURT.  397 

in  company  with  his  confessor, — a  fat  Franciscan  friar, 
from  the  neighboring  convent.  A  demure,  dark -eyed 
damsel  of  Malaga,  the  daughter  of  his  housekeeper,  was 
attending  upon  him.  The  world  hinted  that  the  damsel, 
who,  with  all  her  demureness,  was  a  sly  buxom  baggage, 
had  found  out  a  soft  spot  in  the  iron  heart  of  the  old 
governor,  and  held  complete  control  over  him.  But  let 
that  pass — the  domestic  affairs  of  these  mighty  poten- 
tates of  the  earth  should  not  be  too  narrowly  scru- 
tinized. 

When  word  was  brought  that  a  suspicious  stranger 
had  been  taken  lurking  about  the  fortress,  and  was  actu- 
ally in  the  outer  court,  in  durance  of  the  corporal,  wait- 
ing the  pleasure  of  his  Excellency,  the  pride  and  stateli- 
ness  of  office  swelled  the  bosom  of  the  governor.  Giving 
back  his  chocolate-cup  into  the  hands  of  the  demure 
damsel,  he  called  for  his  basket-hilted  sword,  girded  it 
to  his  side,  twirled  up  his  moustaches,  took  his  seat  in  a 
large  high-backed  chair,  assumed  a  bitter  and  forbidding 
aspect,  and  ordered  the  prisoner  into  his  presence.  The 
soldier  was  brought  in,  still  closely  pinioned  by  his  cap- 
tors, and  guarded  by  the  corporaL  He  maintained,  how- 
ever, a  resolute  self-confident  air,  and  returned  the  sharp, 
scrutinizing  look  of  the  governor  with  an  easy  squint, 
which  by  no  means  pleased  the  punctilious  old  potentate. 

"Well,  culprit,"  said  the  governor,  after  he  had  re- 
garded him  for  a  moment  in  silence,  "  what  have  you  to 
say  for  yourself — who  are  you  ?  " 


398  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

"  A  soldier,  just  from  the  wars,  who  has  brought  awaj 
nothing  but  scars  and  bruises." 

"A  soldier — humph — a  foot-soldier  by  your  garb.  1 
understand  you  have  a  fine  Arabian  horse.  I  presume 
you  brought  him  too  from  the  wars,  besides  your  scars 
and  bruises." 

"May  it  please  your  Excellency,  I  have  something 
strange  to  tell  about  that  horse.  Indeed  I  have  one  of 
the  most  wonderful  things  to  relate.  Something  too  that 
concerns  the  security  of  this  fortress,  indeed  of  all  Gra- 
nada. But  it  is  a  matter  to  be  imparted  only  to  your 
private  ear,  or  in  presence  of  such  only  as  are  in  your 
confidence." 

The  governor  considered  for  a  moment,  and  then  di- 
rected the  corporal  and  his  men  to  withdraw,  but  to  post 
themselves  outside  of  the  door,  and  be  ready  at  a  calL 
"This  holy  friar,"  said  he,  "is  my  confessor,  you  may 
say  anything  in  his  presence ; — and  this  damsel,"  nod- 
ding towards  the  handmaid,'  who  had  loitered  with  an  air 
of  great  curiosity,  "  this  damsel  is  of  great  secrecy  and 
discretion,  and  to  be  trusted  with  anything." 

The  soldier  gave  a  glance  between  a  squint  and  a  leer 
at  the  demure  handmaid.  "  I  am  perfectly  willing,"  said 
he,  "that  the  damsel  should  remain." 

When  all  the  rest  had  withdrawn,  the  soldier  com- 
menced his  story.  He  was  a  fluent,  smooth-tongued  var- 
let,  and  had  a  command  of  language  above  his  apparent 
rank. 


A  SOLDIER'S  STORt.  399 

"May  it  please  your  Excellency,"  said  he,  "I  am,  as  I 
before  observed,  a  soldier,  and  have  seen  some  bard  ser- 
vice, but  my  term  of  enlistment  being  expired,  I  was  dis- 
charged, not  long  since,  from  the  army  at  Yalladolid,  and 
set  out  on  foot  for  my  native  village  in  Andalusia.  Yes- 
terday evening  the  sun  went  down  as  I  was  traversing  a 
great  dry  plain  of  Old  Castile." 

"  Hold !  "  cried  the  governor,  "  what  is  tliis  you  say  ? 
Old  Castile  is  some  two  or  three  hundred  miles  from 
this." 

"Even  so,"  replied  the  soldier,  coolly.  "I  told  your 
Excellency  I  had  strange  things  to  relate ;  but  not  more 
strange  than  true,  as  your  Excellency  will  find,  if  you 
will  deign  me  a  patient  hearing." 

"Proceed,  culprit,"  said  the  governor,  twirling  up  his 
moustaches. 

"As  the  sun  went  down,"  continued  the  soldier,  "I 
cast  my  eyes  about  in  search  of  quarters  for  the  night, 
but  as  far  as  my  sight  could  reach  there  were  no  signs  of 
habitation.  I  saw  that  I  should  have  to  make  my  bed 
on  the  naked  plain,  with  my  knapsack  for  a  pillow ;  but 
your  Excellency  is  an  old  soldier,  and  knows  that  to  one 
who  has  been  in  the  wars,  such  a  night's  lodging  is  no 
great  hardship." 

The  governor  nodded  assent,  as  he  drew  his  pocket- 
handkerchief  out  of  the  basket-hilt  to  drive  away  a  fly 
that  buzzed  about  his  nose. 

"  Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,"  continued  the  sol 


400  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

dier,  "  I  trudged  forward  for  several  miles  until  I  came 
to  a  bridge  over  a  deep  ravine,  through  which  ran  a  little 
thread  of  water,  almost  dried  up  by  the  summer  heat. 
At  one  end  of  the  bridge  was  a  Moorish  tower,  the  upper 
end  all  in  ruins,  but  a  vault  in  the  foundation  quite  en- 
tire. Here,  thinks  I,  is  a  good  place  to  make  a  halt ;  so 
I  went  down  to  the  stream,  and  took  a  hearty  drink,  for 
the  water  was  pure  and  sweet,  and  I  was  parched  with 
thirst;  then,  opening  my  wallet,  I  took  out  an  onion  and 
a  few  crusts,  which  were  all  my  provisions,  and  seating 
myself  on  a  stone  on  the  margin  of  the  stream,  began  to 
make  my  supper, — intending  afterwards  to  quarter  myself 
for  the  night  in  the  vault  of  the  tower ;  and  capital  quar- 
ters they  would  have  been  for  a  campaigner  just  from 
the  wars,  as  your  Excellency,  who  is  an  old  soldier,  may 
suppose." 

"I  have  put  up  gladly  with  worse  in  my  time,"  said 
the  governor,  returning  his  pocket-handkerchief  into  the 
hilt  of  his  sword. 

"  While  I  was  quietly  crunching  my  crust,"  pursued 
fche  soldier,  "I  heard  something  stir  within  the  vault ;  I 
listened — it  was  the  tramp  of  a  horse.  By-and-by  a  man 
came  forth  from  a  door  in  the  foundation  of  the  tower, 
close  by  the  water's  edge,  leading  a  powerful  horse  by 
the  bridle.  I  could  not  well  make  out  what  he  was,  by 
the  starlight.  It  had  a  suspicious  look  to  be  lurking 
among  the  ruins  of  a  tower,  in  that  wild  solitary  place. 
He  might  be  a  mere  wayfarer,  like  myself;  he  might  be 


THE  MOORISH  TROOPER.  401 

a  contrabandista ;  lie  might  be  a  bandolero!  what  of 
that  ?  thank  heaven  and  my  poverty,  I  had  nothing  to 
lose ;  so  I  sat  still  and  crunched  my  crust. 

"  He  led  his  horse  to  the  water,  close  by  where  I  was 
sitting,  so  that  I  had  a  fair  opportunity  of  reconnoitring 
him.  To  my  surprise  he  was  dressed  in  a  Moorish  garb, 
with  a  cuirass  of  steel,  and  a  polished  skull-cap  that  I 
distinguished  by  the  reflection  of  the  stars  upon  it.  His 
horse,  too,  was  harnessed  in  the  Morisco  fashion,  with 
great  shovel  stirrups.  He  led  him,  as  I  said,  to  the  side 
of  the  stream,  into  which  the  animal  plunged  his  head 
almost  to  the  eyes,  and  drank  until  I  thought  he  would 
have  burst. 

"'Comrade,'  said  I,  'your  steed  drinks  well;  it's  a 
good  sign  when  a  horse  plunges  his  muzzle  bravely  into 
the  water.' 

"  *  He  may  well  drink,'  said  the  stranger,  speaking  with 
a  Moorish  accent ;  '  it  is  a  good  year  since  he  had  his 
last  draught.' 

" '  By  Santiago,'  said  I,  *  that  beats  even  the  camels  I 
have  seen  in  Africa.  But  come,  you  seem  to  be  some- 
thing of  a  soldier,  will  you  sit  down  and  take  part  of  a 
soldier's  fare  ? '  In  fact,  I  felt  the  want  of  a  companion 
in  this  lonely  place,  and  was  willing  to  put  up  with 
an  infidel.  Besides,  as  your  Excellency  well  knows,  a 
soldier  is  never  very  particular  about  the  faith  of  his 
company,  and  soldiers  of  all  countries  are  comrades  on 
peaceable  ground." 
36 


402  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Tlie  governor  again  nodded  assent. 

*'  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  I  invited  him  to  share  my  sup- 
per, snch  as  it  was,  for  I  could  not  do  less  in  common 
hospitality.  '  I  have  no  time  to  pause  for  meat  or  drink,' 
said  he,  '  I  have  a  long  journey  to  make  before  morning.' 

"  '  In  what  direction  ?  '  said  I. 

"  *  Andalusia,'  said  he. 

"  *  Exactly  my  route,'  said  I ;  'so,  as  you  won't  stop 
and  eat  with  me,  perhaps  you  will  let  me  mount  and  ride 
with  you.  I  see  your  horse  is  of  a  powerful  frame  ;  I'll 
warrant  he'll  carry  double.' 

u  I  Agreed,'  said  the  trooper ;  and  it  would  not  have 
been  civil  and  soldierlike  to  refuse,  especially  as  I  had 
offered  to  share  my  supper  with  him.  So  up  he  mounted, 
and  up  I  mounted  behind  him. 

"  *  Hold  fast,'  said  he,  '  my  steed  goes  like  the  wind.' 

"  'Never  fear  me,'  said  I,  and  so  off  we  set. 

"  From  a  walk  the  horse  soon  passed  to  a  trot,  from  a 
trot  to  a  gallop,  and  from  a  gallop  to  a  harum-scarum 
scamper.  It  seemed  as  if  rocks,  trees,  houses,  everything 
flew  hurry-scurry  behind  us. 

*' '  What  town  is  this  ? '  said  I. 

"  *  Segovia,'  said  he ;  and  before  the  word  was  out  of 
his  mouth,  the  towers  of  Segovia  were  out  of  sight.  We 
swept  up  the  Guadarama  mountains,  and  down  by  the 
Escurial;  and  we  skirted  the  walls  of  Madrid,  and  we 
scoured  away  across  the  plains  of  La  Mancha.  In  this 
way  we  went  up  hill  and  down  dale,  by  towers  and  cities, 


TEE  ENCHANTED  GA  VEEN  403 

all  buried  in  deep  sleep,  and  across  mountains,  and  plains, 
and  riyers,  just  glimmering  in  the  starlight. 

"To  make  a  long  story  short,  and  not  to  fatigue  your 
Excellency,  the  trooper  suddenly  pulled  up  on  the  side  of 
a  mountain.  '  Here  we  are,'  said  he,  '  at  the  end  of  our 
journey.'  I  looked  about,  but  could  see  no  signs  of  habi- 
tation; nothing  but  the  mouth  of  a  cavern.  While  I 
looked  I  saw  multitudes  of  people  in  Moorish  dresses, 
some  on  horseback,  some  on  foot,  arriving  as  if  borne  by 
the  wind  from  all  points  of  the  compass,  and  hurrying 
into  the  mouth  of  the  cavern  like  bees  into  a  hive.  Be- 
fore I  could  ask  a  question,  the  trooper  struck  his  long 
Moorish  spurs  into  the  horse's  flanks,  and  dashed  in  with 
the  throng.  We  passed  along  a  steep  winding  way,  that 
descended  into  the  very  bowels  of  the  mountain.  As  we 
pushed  on,  a  light  began  to  glimmer  up,  by  little  and 
little,  like  the  first  glimmerings  of  day,  but  what  caused 
it  I  could  not  discern.  It  grew  stronger  and  stronger, 
and  enabled  me  to  see  everything  around.  I  now 
noticed,  as  we  passed  along,  great  caverns,  opening  to 
the  right  and  left,  like  halls  in  an  arsenal.  In  some 
there  were  shields,  and  helmets,  and  cuirasses,  and 
lances,  and  cimeters,  hanging  against  the  walls ;  in  others 
there  were  great  heaps  of  warlike  munitions  and  camp- 
equipage  lying  upon  the  ground. 

"It  would  have  done  your  Excellency's  heart  good, 
being  an  old  soldier,  to  have  seen  such  grand  provision 
for  war.     Then,  in  other  caverns,  there  were  long  rows  of 


404  I'SE  ALHAMBRA. 

horsemen  armed  to  the  teeth,  with  lances  raised  and 
banners  unfurled,  all  ready  for  the  field ;  but  they  all  sat 
motionless  in  their  saddles,  like  so  many  statues.  In 
other  halls  were  warriors  sleeping  on  the  ground  be- 
side their  horses,  and  foot-soldiers  in  groups  ready  to 
fall  into  the  ranks.  All  were  in  old-fashioned  Moorish 
dresses  and  armor. 

"  Well,  your  Excellency,  to  cut  a  long  story  short,  we 
at  length  entered  an  immense  cavern,  or  I  may  say  pal- 
ace, of  grotto-work,  the  walls  of  which  seemed  to  be 
veined  with  gold  and  silver,  and  to  sparkle  with  dia- 
monds and  sapphires  and  all  kinds  of  precious  stones. 
At  the  upper  end  sat  a  Moorish  king  on  a  golden  throne, 
with  his  nobles  on  each  side,  and  a  guard  of  African 
blacks  with  drawn  cimeters.  All  the  crowd  that  con- 
tinued to  flock  in,  and  amounted  to  thousands  and  thou- 
sands, passed  one  by  one  before  his  throne,  each  paying 
homage  as  he  passed.  Some  of  the  multitude  were 
dressed  in  magnificent  robes,  without  stain  or  blemish, 
and  sparkling  with  jewels ;  others  in  burnished  and  en- 
amelled armor ;  while  others  were  in  mouldered  and  mil- 
dewed garments,  and  in  armor  all  battered  and  dented 
and  covered  with  rust. 

*'  I  had  hitherto  held  my  tongue,  for  your  Excellency 
well  knows  it  is  not  for  a  soldier  to  ask  many  questions 
when  on  duty,  but  I  could  keep  silent  no  longer. 

"'Prithee,  comrade,'  said  I,  "what  is  the  meaning  of 
all  this?' 


THE  ENCHANTED  ABMT.  405 

" '  This,'  said  the  trooper,  '  is  a  great  and  fearful  mys- 
tery. Know,  O  Christian,  that  you  see  before  you  the 
court  and  army  of  Boabdil  the  last  king  of  Granada.' 

"*What  is  this  you  tell  me?'  cried  I.  'Boabdil  and 
his  court  were  exiled  from  the  land  hundreds  of  years 
agone,  and  all  died  in  Africa.' 

" '  So  it  is  recorded  in  your  lying  chronicles,'  replied 
the  Moor ;  '  but  know  that  Boabdil  and  the  warriors  who 
made  the  last  struggle  for  Granada  were  all  shut  up  in 
the  mountain  by  powerful  enchantment.  As  for  the  king 
and  army  that  marched  forth  from  Granada  at  the  time 
of  the  surrender,  they  were  a  mere  phantom  train  of 
spirits  and  demons,  permitted  to  assume  those  shapes  to 
deceive  the  Christian  sovereigns.  And  furthermore  let 
me  tell  you,  friend,  that  all  Spain  is  a  country  under  the 
power  of  enchantment.  There  is  not  a  mountain  cave, 
not  a  lonely  watch-tower  in  the  plains,  nor  ruined  castle 
on  the  hills,  but  has  some  spellbound  warriors  sleeping 
from  age  to  age  within  its  vaults,  until  the  sins  are  ex- 
piated for  which  Allah  permitted  the  dominion  to  pass 
for  a  time  out  of  the  hands  of  the  faithful.  Once  every 
year,  on  the  eve  of  St.  John,  they  are  released  from  en- 
chantment, from  sunset  to  sunrise,  and  permitted  to  re- 
pair here  to  pay  homage  to  their  sovereign!  and  the 
crowds  which  you  beheld  swarming  into  the  cavern  are 
Moslem  warriors  from  their  haunts  in  all  parts  of  Spain. 
For  my  own  part,  you  saw  the  ruined  tower  of  the  bridge 
in  Old  Castile,  where  I  have  now  wintered  and  summered 


406  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

for  many  hundred  years,  and  where  I  must  be  back  again 
by  daybreak.  As  to  the  battalions  of  horse  and  foot 
which  you  beheld  drawn  up  in  array  in  the  neighboring 
caverns,  they  are  the  spellbound  warriors  of  Granada. 
It  is  written  in  the  book  of  fate,  that  when  the  enchant- 
ment is  broken,  Boabdil  will  descend  from  the  mountain 
at  the  head  of  this  army,  resume  his  throne  in  the  Al- 
hambra  and  his  sway  of  Granada,  and  gathering  together 
the  enchanted  warriors  from  all  parts  of  Spain,  will  re- 
conquer the  Peninsula  and  restore  it  to  Moslem  rule.' 

"  '  And  when  shall  this  happen?  '  said  I. 

"  *  Allah  alone  knows  :  we  had  hoped  the  day  of  deliv- 
erance was  at  hand ;  but  there  reigns  at  present  a  vigi- 
lant governor  in  the  Alhambra,  a  stanch  old  soldier,  well 
known  as  Governor  Manco.  While  such  a  warrior  holds 
command  of  the  very  outpost,  and  stands  ready  to  check 
the  first  irruption  from  the  mountain,  I  fear  Boabdil  and 
his  soldiery  must  be  content  to  rest  upon  their  arms.'  " 

Here  the  governor  raised  himself  somewhat  perpen- 
dicularly, adjusted  his  sword,  and  twirled  up  his  mous- 
taches. 

"  To  make  a  long  story  short,  and  not  to  fatigue  your 
Excellency,  the  trooper,  having  given  me  this  account, 
dismounted  from  his  steed. 

"  '  Tarry  here,'  said  he,  '  and  guard  my  steed  while  I 
go  and  bow  the  knee  to  Boabdil.'  So  saying,  he  strode 
away  among  the  throng  that  pressed  forward  to  the 
throne. 


THE  EXIT,  407 

"  *  What^s  to  be  done  ? '  thought  I,  when  thus  left  to 
myself;  *  shall  I  wait  here  until  this  infidel  returns  to 
whisk  me  off  on  his  goblin  steed,  the  Lord  knows  where  ; 
or  shall  I  make  the  most  of  mj  time  and  beat  a  retreat 
from  this  hobgoblin  community  ? '  A  soldier's  mind  is 
soon  made  up,  as  your  Excellency  well  knows.  As  to 
the  horse,  he  belonged  to  an  avowed  enemy  of  the  faith 
and  the  realm,  and  was  a  fair  prize  according  to  the 
rules  of  war.  So  hoisting  myself  from  the  crupper  into 
the  saddle,  I  turned  the  reins,  struck  the  Moorish  stir- 
rups into  the  sides  of  the  steed,  and  put  him  to  make  the 
best  of  his  way  out  of  the  passage  by  which  he  had 
entered.  As  we  scoured  by  the  halls  where  the  Moslem 
horsemen  sat  in  motionless  battalions,  I  thought  I  heard 
the  clang  of  armor  and  a  hollow  murmur  of  voices.  I 
gave  the  steed  another  taste  of  the  stirrups  and  doubled 
my  speed.  There  was  now  a  sound  behind  me  like  a 
rushing  blast ;  I  heard  the  clatter  of  a  thousand  hoofs  ; 
a  countless  throng  overtook  me.  I  was  borne  along  in 
the  press,  and  hurled  forth  from  the  mouth  of  the  cav- 
ern, while  thousands  of  shadowy  forms  were  swept  off  in 
every  direction  by  the  four  winds  of  heaven. 

"  In  the  whirl  and  confusion  of  the  scene  I  was  thrown 
senseless  to  the  earth.  When  I  came  to  myself,  I  was 
lying  on  the  brow  of  a  hill,  with  the  Arabian  steed  stand- 
ing beside  me  ;  for  in  falling,  my  arm  had  slipped  within 
the  bridle,  which,  I  presume,  prevented  his  whisking  off 
to  Old  Castile. 


408  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

"  Your  Excellency  may  easily  judge  of  my  surprise,  on 
looking  round,  to  behold  hedges  of  aloes  and  Indian 
figs  and  other  proofs  of  a  southern  climate,  and  to  see 
a  great  city  below  me,  with  towers,  and  palaces,  and 
a  grand  cathedral. 

"  I  descended  the  hill  cautiously,  leading  my  steed,  for 
I  was  afraid  to  mount  him  again,  lest  he  should  play  me 
some  slippery  trick.  As  I  descended  I  met  with  your 
patrol,  who  let  me  into  the  secret  that  it  was  Granada 
that  lay  before  me,  and  that  I  was  actually  under  the 
walls  of  the  Alhambra,  the  fortress  of  the  redoubted 
Governor  Manco,  the  terror  of  all  enchanted  Moslems. 
When  I  heard  this,  I  determined  at  once  to  seek  your 
Excellency,  to  inform  you  of  all  that  I  had  seen,  and  to 
warn  you  of  the  perils  that  surround  and  undermine  you, 
that  you  may  take  measures  in  time  to  guard  your  for- 
tress, and  the  kingdom  itself,  from  this  intestine  army 
that  lurks  in  the  very  bowels  of  the  land." 

"And  prithee,  friend,  you  who  are  a  veteran  cam- 
paigner, and  have  seen  so  much  service,"  said  the  gover- 
nor, *'how  would  you  advise  me  to  proceed,  in  order  to 
prevent  this  evil?" 

"It  is  not  for  a  humble  private  of  the  ranks,"  said  the 
soldier,  modestly,  "to  pretend  to  instruct  a  commander 
of  your  Excellency's  sagacity,  but  it  appears  to  me  that 
your  Excellency  might  cause  all  the  caves  and  entrances 
into  the  mountains  to  be  walled  up  with  solid  mason- 
work,  so  that  Boabdil  and  his  army  might  be  completely 


A  M00RI8R  PUB8K  409 

corked  up  in  their  subterranean  habitation.  If  the  good 
father,  too,"  added  the  soldier,  reverently  bowing  to  the 
friar,  and  devoutly  crossing  himself,  "would  consecrate 
the  barricadoes  with  his  blessing,  and  put  up  a  few 
crosses  and  relics  and  images  of  saints,  I  think  they 
might  withstand  all  the  power  of  infidel  enchantments." 

"They  doubtless  would  be  of  great  avail,"  said  the 
friar. 

The  governor  now  placed  his  arm  akimbo,  with  his 
hand  resting  on  the  hilt  of  his  toledo,  fixed  his  eye  upon 
the  soldier,  and  gently  wagging  his  head  from  one  side  to 
the  other, — 

"So,  friend,"  said  he,  "then  you  really  suppose  I  am 
to  be  gulled  with  this  cock-and-bull  story  about  en- 
chanted mountains  and  enchanted  Moors?  Hark  ye,  cul- 
prit ! — not  another  word.  An  old  soldier  you  may  be, 
but  you'll  find  you  have  an  older  soldier  to  deal  with,  and 
one  not  easily  outgeneralled.  Ho !  guards  there !  put 
this  fellow  in  irons." 

The  demure  handmaid  would  have  put  in  a  word  in 
favor  of  the  prisoner,  but  the  governor  silenced  her  with 
a  look. 

As  they  were  pinioning  the  soldier,  one  of  the  guards 
felt  something  of  bulk  in  his  pocket,  and  drawing  it 
forth,  found  a  long  leathern  purse  that  appeared  to  be 
well  filled.  Holding  it  by  one  corner,  he  turned  out  the 
contents  upon  the  table  before  the  governor,  and  never 
did  freebooter's  bag  make  more  gorgeous  delivery.     Out 


410  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

tumbled  rings,  and  jewels,  and  rosaries  of  pearls,  and 
sparkling  diamond  crosses,  and  a  profusion  of  ancient 
golden  coin,  some  of  which  fell  jingling  to  the  floor,  and 
rolled  away  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  chamber. 

For  a  time  the  functions  of  justice  were  suspended; 
there  was  a  universal  scramble  after  the  glittering  fugi- 
tives. The  governor  alone,  who  was  imbued  with  true 
Spanish  pride,  maintained  his  stately  decorum,  though 
his  eye  betrayed  a  little  anxiety  until  the  last  coin  and 
jewel  was  restored  to  the  sack. 

The  friar  was  not  so  calm ;  his  whole  face  glowed  like  a 
furnace,  and  his  eyes  twinkled  and  flashed  at  sight  of  the 
rosaries  and  crosses. 

"  Sacrilegious  wretch  that  thou  art ! "  exclaimed  he ; 
"  what  church  or  sanctuary  hast  thou  been  plundering  of 
these  sacred  relics  ?  " 

"  Neither  one  nor  the  other,  holy  father.  If  they  be  sac- 
rilegious spoils,  they  must  have  been  taken,  in  times  long 
past,  by  the  infidel  trooper  I  have  mentioned.  I  was  just 
going  to  tell  his  Excellency  when  he  interrupted  me,  that, 
on  taking  possession  of  the  trooper's  horse,  I  unhooked 
a  leathern  sack  which  hung  at  the  saddle-bow,  and  which 
I  presume  contained  the  plunder  of  his  campaignings 
in  days  of  old,  when  the  Moors  overran  the  country." 

"  Mighty  well ;  at  present  you  will  make  up  your  mind 
to  take  up  your  quarters  in  a  chamber  of  the  vermilion 
tower,  which,  though  not  under  a  magic  spell,  will  hold 
you  as  safe  as  any  cave  of  your  enchanted  Moors." 


A  SOLDIER'S  QUABTEBS.  411 

"Tour  Excellency  will  do  as  jou  think  proper,"  said 
the  prisoner,  coolly.  "  I  shall  be  thankful  to  your  Excel- 
lency for  any  accommodation  in  the  fortress.  A  soldier 
who  has  been  in  the  wars,  as  your  Excellency  well  knows, 
is  not  particular  about  his  lodgings.  Provided  I  have  a 
snug  dungeon  and  regular  rations,  I  shall  manage  to 
make  myself  comfortable.  I  would  only  entreat  that 
while  your  Excellency  is  so  careful  about  me,  you  would 
have  an  eye  to  your  fortress,  and  think  on  the  hint  I 
dropped  about  stopping  up  the  entrances  to  the  moun- 
tain." 

Here  ended  the  scene.  The  prisoner  was  conducted  to 
a  strong  dungeon  in  the  vermilion  tower,  the  Arabian 
steed  was  led  to  his  Excellency's  stable,  and  the  trooper's 
sack  was  deposited  in  his  Excellency's  strong  box.  To 
the  latter,  it  is  true,  the  friar  made  some  demur,  ques- 
tioning whether  the  sacred  relics,  which  were  evidently 
sacrilegious  spoils,  should  not  be  placed  in  custody  of 
the  church ;  but  as  the  governor  was  peremptory  on  the 
subject,  and  was  absolute  lord  in  the  Alhambra,  the  friar 
discreetly  dropped  the  discussion,  but  determined  to  con- 
vey intelligence  of  the  fact  to  the  church  dignitaries  in 
Granada. 

To  explain  these  prompt  and  rigid  measures  on  the 
part  of  old  Governor  Manco,  it  is  proper  to  observe,  that 
about  this  time  the  Alpuxarra  mountains  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Granada  were  terribly  infested  by  a  gang  of 
robbers,  under  the  command  of  a  daring   chief  named 


412  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Manuel  Borasco,  who  were  accustomed  to  prowl  about 
the  country,  and  even  to  enter  the  city  in  various  dis^ 
guises,  to  gain  intelligence  of  the  departure  of  convoys 
of  merchandise,  or  travellers  with  well-lined  purses, 
whom  they  took  care  to  waylay  in  distant  and  solitary 
passes  of  the  road.  These  repeated  and  daring  outrages 
had  awakened  the  attention  of  government,  and  the 
commanders  of  the  various  posts  had  received  instruc- 
tions to  be  on  the  alert,  and  to  take  up  all  suspicious 
stragglers.  Governor  Manco  was  particularly  zealous  in 
consequence  of  the  various  stigmas  that  had  been  cast 
upon  his  fortress,  and  he  now  doubted  not  he  had  en- 
trapped some  formidable  desperado  of  this  gang. 

In  the  meantime  the  story  took  wind,  and  became  the 
talk,  not  merely  of  the  fortress,  but  of  the  whole  city  of 
Granada.  It  was  said  that  the  noted  robber  Manuel 
Borasco,  the  terror  of  the  Alpuxarras,  had  fallen  into  the 
clutches  of  old  Governor  Manco,  and  been  cooped  up  by 
him  in  a  dungeon  of  the  vermilion  towers ;  and  every  one 
who  had  been  robbed  by  him  flocked  to  recognize  the 
marauder.  The  vermilion  towers,  as  is  well  known, 
stand  apart  from  the  Alhambra  on  a  sister  hill,  separated 
from  the  main  fortress  by  the  ravine  down  which  passes 
the  main  avenue.  There  were  no  outer  walls,  but  a  senti- 
nel patrolled  before  the  tower.  The  window  of  the  cham- 
ber in  which  the  soldier  was  confined  was  strongly  grated, 
and  looked  upon  a  small  esplanade.  Here  the  good  folks 
of  Granada  repaired  to  gaze  at  him,  as  they  would  at  a 


MANUEL  B0BA8G0.  413 

laughing  liyena,  grinning  througli  tlie  cage  of  a  mena- 
gerie. Nobody,  however,  recognized  him  for  Manuel 
Borasco,  for  that  terrible  robber  was  noted  for  a  fero- 
cious physiognomy,  and  had  by  no  means  the  good- 
humored  squint  of  the  prisoner.  Visitors  came  not 
merely  from  the  city,  but  from  all  parts  of  the  country ; 
but  nobody  knew  him,  and  there  began  to  be  doubts  in 
the  minds  of  the  common  people  whether  there  might 
not  be  some  truth  in  his  story.  That  Boabdil  and  his 
army  were  shut  up  in  the  mountain,  was  an  old  tradition 
which  many  of  the  ancient  inhabitants  had  heard  from 
their  fathers.  Numbers  went  up  to  the  Mountain  of  the 
Sun,  or  rather  of  St.  Elena,  in  search  of  the  cave  men- 
tioned by  the  soldier ;  and  saw  and  peeped  into  the  deep 
dark  pit,  descending,  no  one  knows  how  far,  into  the 
mountain,  and  which  remains  there  to  this  day — the 
fabled  entrance  to  the  subterranean  abode  of  Boabdil. 

By  degrees  the  soldier  became  popular  with  the  com- 
mon people.  A  freebooter  of  the  mountains  is  by  no 
means  the  opprobrious  character  in  Spain  that  a  robber 
is  in  any  other  country  :  on  the  contrary,  he  is  a  kind 
of  chivalrous  personage  in  the  eyes  of  the  lower  classes. 
There  is  always  a  disposition,  also,  to  cavil  at  the  con- 
duct of  those  in  command  ;  and  many  began  to  murmur 
at  the  high-handed  measures  of  old  Governor  Manco, 
and  to  look  upon  the  prisoner  in  the  light  of  a  martyr. 

The  soldier,  moreover,  was  a  merry,  waggish  fellow, 
that  had  a  joke  for  every  one  who  came  near  his  window. 


414,  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  a  soft  speech  for  every  female.  He  had  procured  an 
old  guitar  also,  and  would  sit  by  his  window  and  sing 
ballads  and  love-ditties  to  the  delight  of  the  women  of 
fche  neighborhood,  who  would  assemble  on  the  esplanade 
in  the  evening  and  dance  boleros  to  his  music.  Having 
trimmed  off  his  rough  beard,  his  sunburnt  face  found 
favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  fair,  and  the  demure  handmaid 
of  the  governor  declared  that  his  squint  was  perfectly 
irresistible.  This  kind-hearted  damsel  had  from  the 
first  evinced  a  deep  sympathy  in  his  fortunes,  and  hav- 
ing in  vain  tried  to  mollify  the  governor,  had  set  to  work 
privately  to  mitigate  the  rigor  of  his  dispensations. 
Every  day  she  brought  the  prisoner  some  crumbs  of  com- 
fort which  had  fallen  from  the  governor's  table,  or  been 
abstracted  from  his  larder,  together  with,  now  and  then, 
a  consoling  bottle  of  choice  Yal  de  Penas,  or  rich  Malaga. 
While  this  petty  treason  was  going  on  in  the  very 
centre  of  the  old  governor's  citadel,  a  storm  of  open  war 
was  brewing  up  among  his  external  foes.  The  circum- 
stance of  a  bag  of  gold  and  jewels  having  been  found 
upon  the  person  of  the  supposed  robber,  had  been  re- 
ported, with  many  exaggerations,  in  Granada.  A  ques- 
tion of  territorial  jurisdiction  was  immediately  started 
by  the  governor's  inveterate  rival,  the  captain-general. 
He  insisted  that  the  prisoner  had  been  captured  without 
the  precincts  of  the  Alhambra,  and  within  the  rules  of 
his  authority.  He  demanded  his  body  therefore,  and  the 
sjpolia  ojdma  taken  with  him.     Due  information  having 


A  SOLDIER'S  RETHEAT.  415 

been  carried  likewise  by  tbe  friar  to  tbe  grand  inquisitor 
of  the  crosses  and  rosaries,  and  other  relics  contained  in 
the  bag,  he  claimed  the  culprit  as  having  been  guilty  of 
sacrilege,  and  insisted  that  his  plunder  was  due  to  the 
church,  and  his  body  to  the  next  auto-da-fe.  The  feuds 
ran  high  ;  the  governor  was  furious,  and  swore,  rather 
than  surrender  his  captive,  he  would  hang  him  up  v/ithin 
the  Alhambra,  as  a  spy  caught  within  the  purlieus  of  the 
fortress. 

The  captain -general  threatened  to  send  a  body  of 
soldiers  to  transfer  the  prisoner  from  the  vermilion  tower 
to  the  city.  The  grand  inquisitor  was  equally  bent  upon 
dispatching  a  number  of  the  familiars  of  the  Holy  Office. 
"Word  was  brought  late  at  night  to  the  governor  of  these 
machinations.  "  Let  them  come,"  said  he,  "  they'll  find 
me  beforehand  with  them  ;  he  must  rise  bright  and  early 
who  would  take  in  an  old  soldier."  He  accordingly 
issued  orders  to  have  the  prisoner  removed,  at  daybreak, 
to  the  donjon-keep  within  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra. 
"And  d'ye  hear,  child,"  said  he  to  his  demure  hand- 
maid, "  tap  at  my  door,  and  wake  me  before  cock-crow- 
ing, that  I  may  see  to  the  matter  myself." 

The  day  dawned,  the  cock  crowed,  but  nobody  tapped 
at  the  door  of  the  governor.  The  sun  rose  high  above 
the  mountain-tops,  and  glittered  in  at  his  casement,  ere 
the  governor  was  awakened  from  his  morning  dreams  by 
his  veteran  corporal,  who  stood  before  him  with  terror 
stamped  upon  his  iron  visage. 


416  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

"  He's  off !  he's  gone  !  "  cried  the  corporal,  gasping 
for  breath. 

"  Who's  off— who's  gone  ?  " 

"The  soldier  —  the  robber  —  the  devil,  for  aught  I 
know ;  his  dungeon  is  empty,  but  the  door  locked :  no 
one  knows  how  he  has  escaped  out  of  it." 

"  "Who  saw  him  last  ?  " 

"  Your  handmaid ;  she  brought  him  his  supper." 

"  Let  her  be  called  instantly." 

Here  was  new  matter  of  confusion.  The  chamber  of 
the  demure  damsel  was  likewise  empty,  her  bed  had  not 
been  slept  in :  she  had  doubtless  gone  off  with  the  cul- 
prit, as  she  had  appeared,  for  some  days  past,  to  have 
frequent  conversations  with  him. 

This  was  wounding  the  old  governor  in  a  tender  part, 
but  he  had  scarce  time  to  wince  at  it,  when  new  misfor- 
tunes broke  upon  his  view.  On  going  into  his  cabinet 
he  found  his  strong  box  open,  the  leather  purse  of  the 
trooper  abstracted,  and  with  it  a  couple  of  corpulent 
bags  of  doubloons. 

But  how,  and  which  way  had  the  fugitives  escaped  ? 
An  old  peasant  who  lived  in  a  cottage  by  the  road-side 
leading  up  into  the  Sierra,  declared  that  he  had  heard 
the  tramp  of  a  powerful  steed  just  before  daybreak,  pass- 
ing  up  into  the  mountains.  He  had  looked  out  at  his 
casement,  and  could  just  distinguish  a  horseman,  with  a 
female  seated  before  him. 

"  Search  the  stables  ! "  cried  Governor  Manco.    The 


A  SOLDIER 'S  GIFT.  417 

stables  were  searched ;  all  the  horses  were  in  their  stalls, 
excepting  the  Arabian  steed.  In  his  place  was  a  stout 
cudgel,  tied  to  the  manger,  and  on  it  a  label  bearing 
these  words,  "A  Gift  to  Governor  Manco,  from  an  Old 
Soldier-" 


A    FETE    IN   THE    ALHAMBRa. 

HE  Saint's  day  of  my  neiglibor  and  rival  poten- 
tate, the  count,  took  place  during  liis  sojourn  in 
the  Alhambra,  on  which  occasion  he  gave  a  do- 
mestic fete  ;  assembling  round  him  the  members  of  his 
family  and  household,  while  the  stewards  and  old  ser- 
vants from  his  distant  possessions  came  to  pay  him  rev- 
erence and  partake  of  the  good  cheer  which  was  sure  to 
be  provided.  It  presented  a  type,  though  doubtless  a 
faint  one,  of  the  establishment  of  a  Spanish  noble  in  the 
olden  time. 

The  Spaniards  were  always  grandiose  in  their  notions 
of  style.  Huge  palaces ;  lumbering  equipages,  laden 
with  footmen  and  lackeys ;  pompous  retinues,  and  useless 
dependents  of  all  kinds;  the  dignity  of  a  noble  seemed 
commensurate  with  the  legions  who  loitered  about  his 
halls,  fed  at  his  expense,  and  seemed  ready  to  devour 
him  alive.  This,  doubtless,  originated  in  the  necessity  of 
keeping  up  hosts  of  armed  retainers  during  the  wars  with 
the  Moors ;  wars  of  inroads  and  surprises ;  when  a  noble 
was  liable  to  be  suddenly  assailed  in  his  castle  by  a  foray 
of  the  enemy,  or  summoned  to  the  field  by  his  sovereign. 

418 


SPANISH  STYLE.  419 

The  custom  remained  after  the  wars  were  at  an  end ; 
and  what  originated  in  necessity  was  kept  up  through 
ostentation.  The  wealth  which  flowed  into  the  country 
from  conquests  and  discoveries  fostered  the  passion  for 
princely  establishments.  According  to  magnificent  old 
Spanish  usage,  in  which  pride  and  generosity  bore  equal 
parts,  a  superannuated  servant  was  never  turned  off, 
but  became  a  charge  for  the  rest  of  his  days ;  nay,  his 
children,  and  his  children's  children,  and  often  their 
relatives  to  the  right  and  left,  became  gradually  entailed 
upon  the  family.  Hence  the  huge  palaces  of  the  Spanish 
nobility,  which  have  such  an  air  of  empty  ostentation 
from  the  greatness  of  their  size  compared  with  the  medi- 
ocrity and  scantiness  of  their  furniture,  were  absolutely 
required,  in  the  golden  days  of  Spain,  by  the  patriarchal 
habits  of  their  possessors.  They  were  little  better  than 
vast  barracks  for  their  hereditary  generations  of  hangers- 
on  that  battened  at  the  expense  of  a  Spanish  noble. 

These  patriarchal  habits  of  the  Spanish  nobility  have 
declined  with  their  revenues;  though  the  spirit  which 
prompted  them  remains,  and  wars  sadly  with  their  al- 
tered fortunes.  The  poorest  among  them  have  always 
some  hereditary  hangers-on,  who  live  at  their  expense, 
and  make  them  poorer.  Some  who,  like  my  neighbor  the 
count,  retain  a  modicum  of  their  once  princely  posses- 
sions, keep  up  a  shadow  of  the  ancient  system,  and  their 
estates  are  overrun  and  the  produce  consumed  by  gener- 
ations of  idle  retainers. 


420  ^^^  ALBAMBRA. 

The  count  held  estates  in  various  parts  of  the  king- 
dom, some  including  whole  Tillages ;  yet  the  revenues 
collected  from  them  were  comparatively  small ;  some  of 
them,  he  assured  me,  barely  fed  the  hordes  of  depend- 
ents nestled  upon  them,  who  seemed  to  consider  them- 
selves entitled  to  live  rent-free  and  be  maintained  into 
the  bargain,  because  their  forefathers  had  been  so  since 
time  immemorial. 

The  saint's  day  of  the  old  count  gave  me  a  glimpse 
into  a  Spanish  interior.  For  two  or  three  days  previous 
preparations  were  made  for  the  fete.  Viands  of  all  kinds 
were  brought  up  from  town,  greeting  the  olfactory  nerves 
of  the  old  invalid  guards,  as  they  were  borne  past  them 
through  the  Gate  of  Justice.  Servants  hurried  officious- 
ly about  the  courts ;  the  ancient  kitchen  of  the  palace 
was  again  alive  with  the  tread  of  cooks  and  scullions, 
and  blazed  with  unwonted  fires. 

When  the  day  arrived  I  beheld  the  old  count  in  patri- 
archal state,  his  family  and  household  around  him,  with 
functionaries  who  mismanaged  his  estates  at  a  distance 
and  consumed  the  proceeds ;  while  numerous  old  worn- 
out  servants  and  pensioners  were  loitering  about  the 
courts  and  keeping  within  smell  of  the  kitchen. 

It  was  a  joyous  day  in  the  Alhambra.  The  guests  dis- 
persed themselves  about  the  palace  before  the  hour  of 
dinner,  enjoying  the  luxuries  of  its  courts  and  fountains, 
and  embosomed  gardens,  and  music  and  laughter  re- 
sounded through  its  late  silent  halls. 


LA  NINA.  421 

The  feast,  for  a  set  dinner  in  Spain  is  literally  a  feast, 
was  served  in  tlie  beautiful  Morisco  Hall  of  "Las  dos 
Hermanas."  The  table  was  loaded  with  all  the  luxuries 
of  the  season :  there  was  an  almost  interminable  succes- 
sion of  dishes ;  showing  how  truly  the  feast  at  the  rich 
Camachos'  wedding  in  "  Don  Quixote "  was  a  picture 
of  a  Spanish  banquet.  A  joyous  conviviality  prevailed 
round  the  board  ;  for  though  Spaniards  are  generally  ab- 
stemious, they  are  complete  revellers  on  occasions  like 
the  present,  and  none  more  so  than  the  Andalusians. 
For  my  part,  there  was  something  peculiarly  exciting  in 
thus  sitting  at  a  feast  in  the  royal  halls  of  the  Alhambra, 
given  by  one  who  might  claim  remote  affinity  with  its 
Moorish  kings,  and  who  was  a  lineal  representative  of 
Gonsalvo  of  Cordova,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  of 
the  Christian  conquerors. 

The  banquet  ended,  the  company  adjourned  to  the 
Hall  of  Ambassadors.  Here  every  one  endeavored  to  con- 
tribute to  the  general  amusement,  singing,  improvising, 
telling  wonderful  tales,  or  dancing  popular  dances  to  that 
all-pervading  talisman  of  Spanish  pleasure,  the  guitar. 

The  count's  gifted  little  daughter  was  as  usual  the  life 
and  delight  of  the  assemblage,  and  I  was  more  than  ever 
struck  with  her  aptness  and  wonderful  versatility.  She 
took  a  part  in  two  or  three  scenes  of  elegant  comedy  with 
some  of  her  companions,  and  performed  them  with  ex- 
quisite point  and  finished  grace ;  she  gave  imitations  of 
the  popular  Italian  singers,  some  serious,  some  comic. 


422  ^^^  ALHAMBBA. 

with  a  rare  quality  of  voice,  and,  I  was  assured,  with  sin- 
gular fidelity ;  she  imitated  the  dialects,  dances,  ballads, 
and  movements  and  manners  of  the  gypsies  and  the 
peasants  of  the  Yega  with  equal  felicity ;  but  everything 
was  done  with  an  all-pervading  grace  and  a  ladylike  tact 
perfectly  fascinating. 

The  great  charm  of  everything  she  did  was  its  freedom 
from  pretension  or  ambitious  display,  its  happy  sponta- 
neity. Everything  sprang  from  the  impulse  of  the  mo- 
ment ;  or  was  in  prompt  compliance  with  a  request.  She 
seemed  unconscious  of  the  rarity  and  extent  of  her  own 
talent,  and  was  like  a  child  at  home  revelling  in  the 
buoyancy  of  its  own  gay  and  innocent  spirits.  Indeed  I 
was  told  she  had  never  exerted  her  talents  in  general 
society,  but  only,  as  at  present,  in  the  domestic  circle. 

Her  faculty  of  observation  and  her  perception  of  char- 
acter must  have  been  remarkably  quick,  for  she  could 
have  had  only  casual  and  transient  glances  at  the  scenes, 
manners,  and  customs  depicted  with  such  truth  and 
spirit.  "  Indeed  it  is  a  continual  wonder  to  us,"  said  the 
countess,  "  where  the  child  [la  Nina]  has  picked  up  these 
things,  her  life  being  passed  almost  entirely  at  home,  in 
the  bosom  of  the  family." 

Evening  approached;  twilight  began  to  throw  its 
shadows  about  the  halls,  and  the  bats  to  steal  forth  from 
their  lurking-place  and  flit  about.  A  notion  seized  the 
little  damsel  and  some  of  her  youthful  companions,  to 
set  out,  under  the  guidance  of  Dolores,  and  explore  the 


THE   VAULTED  PASSAGE.  423 

less  frequented  parts  of  the  palace  in  quest  of  mysteries 
and  enchantments.  Thus  conducted,  they  peeped  fear- 
fully into  the  gloomy  old  mosque,  but  quick  drew  back 
on  being  told  that  a  Moorish  king  had  been  murdered 
there ;  they  ventured  into  the  mysterious  regions  of  the 
bath,  frightening  themselves  with  the  sounds  and  mur- 
murs of  hidden  aqueducts,  and  flying  with  mock  panic  at 
the  alarm  of  phantom  Moors.  They  then  undertook  the 
adventure  of  the  Iron  Gate,  a  place  of  baleful  note  in  the 
Alhambra.  It  is  a  postern  gate,  opening  into  a  dark 
ravine  ;  a  narrow  covered  way  leads  down  to  it,  which 
used  to  be  the  terror  of  Dolores  and  her  playmates  in 
childhood,  as  it  was  said  a  hand  without  a  body  would 
sometimes  be  stretched  out  from  the  wall  and  seize  hold 
of  the  passers-by. 

The  little  party  of  enchantment-hunters  ventured  to 
the  entrance  of  the  covered  way,  but  nothing  would 
tempt  them  to  enter,  in  this  hour  of  gathering  gloom ; 
they  dreaded  the  grasp  of  the  phantom  arm. 

At  length  they  came  running  back  into  the  Hall  of 
Ambassadors  in  a  mock  paroxysm  of  terror :  they  had 
positively  seen  two  spectral  figures  all  in  white.  They 
had  not  stopped  to  examine  them ;  but  could  not  be  mis- 
taken, for  they  glared  distinctly  through  the  surrounding 
gloom.  Dolores  soon  arrived  and  explained  the  mystery. 
The  spectres  proved  to  be  two  statues  of  nymphs  in 
white  marble,  placed  at  the  entrance  of  a  vaulted  pas- 
sage.    Upon  this  a  grave,  but,  as  I  thought,  somewhat 


424  THE  ALHAMBRA 

sly  old  gentleman  present,  who,  I  believe,  was  the  count's 
advocate  or  legal  adviser,  assured  them  that  these  statues 
were  connected  with  one  of  the  greatest  mysteries  of  the 
Alhambra ;  that  there  was  a  curious  history  concerning 
them,  and,  moreover,  that  they  stood  a  living  monument 
in  marble  of  female  secrecy  and  discretion.  All  present 
entreated  him  to  tell  the  history  of  the  statues.  He  took 
a  little  time  to  recollect  the  details,  and  then  gave  them 
in  substance  the  following  legend. 


LEGEND   OF  THE   TWO  DISCREET 
STATUES. 

HEEE  lived  once  in  a  waste  apartment  of  the 
Alhambra  a  merry  little  fellow,  named  Lope 
Sanchez,  who  worked  in  the  gardens,  and  was 
as  brisk  and  as  blithe  as  a  grasshopper,  singing  all  day 
long.  He  was  the  life  and  soul  of  the  fortress  ;  when  his 
work  was  over,  he  would  sit  on  one  of  the  stone  benches 
of  the  esplanade,  strum  his  guitar,  and  sing  long  ditties 
about  the  Cid,  and  Bernardo  del  Carpio,  and  Fernando 
del  Pulgar,  and  other  Spanish  heroes,  for  the  amusement 
of  the  old  soldiers  of  the  fortress ;  or  would  strike  up  a 
merrier  tune,  and  set  the  girls  dancing  boleros  and  fan- 
dangos. 

Like  most  little  men,  Lope  Sanchez  had  a  strapping 
buxom  dame  for  a  wife,  who  could  almost  have  put  him 
in  her  pocket ;  but  he  lacked  the  usual  poor  man's  lot — 
instead  of  ten  children  he  had  but  one.  This  was  a  little 
black-eyed  girl  about  twelve  years  of  age,  named  San- 
chica,  who  was  as  merry  as  himself,  and  the  delight  of 
his  heart.     She  played  about  him  as  he  worked  in  the 

435 


426  THE  ALnAMBRA. 

gardens,  danced  to  his  guitar  as  lie  sat  in  tlie  shade,  and 
ran  as  wild  as  a  young  fawn  about  the  groves  and  alleys 
and  ruined  halls  of  the  Alhambra. 

It  was  now  the  eve  of  the  blessed  St.  John,  and  the 
holiday-loving  gossips  of  the  Alhambra,  men,  women, 
and  children,  went  up  at  night  to  the  Mountain  of  the 
Sun,  which  rises  above  the  Generalife,  to  keep  their  mid- 
summer vigil  on  its  level  summit.  It  was  a  bright  moon- 
light night,  and  all  the  mountains  were  gray  and  silvery, 
and  the  city,  with  its  domes  and  spires,  lay  in  shadows 
below,  and  the  Yega  was  like  a  fairy  land,  with  haunted 
streams  gleaming  among  its  dusky  groves.  On  the  high- 
est part  of  the  mountain  they  lit  up  a  bonfire,  according 
to  an  old  custom  of  the  country  handed  down  from  the 
Moors.  The  inhabitants  of  the  surrounding  country 
were  keeping  a  similar  vigil,  and  bonfires,  here  and  there 
in  the  Yega,  and  along  the  folds  of  the  mountains,  blazed 
up  palely  in  the  moonlight. 

The  evening  was  gayly  passed  in  dancing  to  the  guitar 
of  Lope  Sanchez,  who  was  never  so  joyous  as  when  on 
a  holiday  revel  of  the  kind.  While  the  dance  was  go- 
ing on,  the  little  Sanchica  with  some  of  her  playmates 
sported  among  the  ruins  of  an  old  Moorish  fort  that 
crowns  the  mountain,  when,  in  gathering  pebbles  in  the 
fosse,  she  found  a  small  hand  curiously  carved  of  jet,  the 
fingers  closed,  and  the  thumb  firmly  clasped  upon  them. 
Overjoyed  with  her  good  fortune,  she  ran  to  her  mother 
with  her  prize.     It  immediately  became  a  subject  of  sage 


THE  JET  HAND.  427 

speculation,  and  was  eyed  by  some  with  superstitious 
distrust.  "  Throw  it  away,"  said  one  ;  "  it's  Moorish, — 
depend  upon  it,  there's  mischief  and  witchcraft  in  it." 
"  By  no  means,"  said  another ;  "  you  may  sell  it  for 
something  to  the  jewellers  of  the  Zacatin."  In  the 
midst  of  this  discussion  an  old  tawny  soldier  drew  near, 
who  had  served  in  Africa,  and  was  as  swarthy  as  a  Moor. 
He  examined  the  hand  with  a  knowing  look.  "  I  have 
seen  things  of  this  kind,"  said  he,  "  among  the  Moors  of 
Barbary.  It  is  a  great  virtue  to  guard  against  the  evil 
eye,  and  all  kinds  of  spells  and  enchantments.  I  give 
you  joy,  friend  Lope,  this  bodes  good  luck  to  your 
child." 

Upon  hearing  this,  the  wife  of  Lope  Sanchez  tied  the 
little  hand  of  jet  to  a  ribbon,  and  hung  it  round  the  neck 
of  her  daughter. 

The  sight  of  this  talisman  called  up  all  the  favorite 
superstitions  about  the  Moors.  The  dance  was  neg- 
lected, and  they  sat  in  groups  on  the  ground,  telling 
old  legendary  tales  handed  down  from  their  ancestors. 
Some  of  their  stories  turned  upon  the  wonders  of  the 
very  mountain  upon  which  they  were  seated,  which  is  a 
famous  hobgoblin  region.  One  ancient  crone  gave  a 
long  account  of  the  subterranean  palace  in  the  bowels  of 
that  mountain  where  Boabdil  and  all  his  Moslem  court 
are  said  to  remain  enchanted.  ''  Among  yonder  ruins," 
said  she,  pointing  to  some  crumbling  walls  and  mounds 
of  earth  on  a  distant  part  of  the  mountain,  '^  there  is  a 


428  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

deep  black  pit  that  goes  down,  down  into  the  very  heart 
of  the  mountain.  For  all  the  money  in  Granada  I 
would  not  look  down  into  it.  Once  upon  a  time  a  poor 
man  of  the  Alhambra,  who  tended  goats  upon  this  moun- 
tain, scrambled  down  into  that  pit  after  a  kid  that  had 
fallen  in.  He  came  out  again  all  wild  and  staring,  and 
told  such  things  of  what  he  had  seen,  that  every  one 
thought  his  brain  was  turned.  He  raved  for  a  day  or 
two  about  the  hobgoblin  Moors  that  had  pursued  him  in 
the  cavern,  and  could  hardly  be  persuaded  to  drive  his 
goats  up  again  to  the  mountain.  He  did  so  at  last,  but, 
poor  man,  he  never  came  down  again.  The  neighbors 
found  his  goats  browsing  about  the  Moorish  ruins,  and 
his  hat  and  mantle  lying  near  the  mouth  of  the  pit,  but 
he  was  never  more  heard  of." 

The  little  Sanchica  listened  with  breathless  attention 
to  this  story.  She  was  of  a  curious  nature,  and  felt  im- 
mediately a  great  hankering  to  peep  into  this  dangerous 
pit.  Stealing  away  from  her  companions,  she  sought  the 
distant  ruins,  and,  after  groping  for  some  time  among 
them,  came  to  a  small  hollow,  or  basin,  near  the  brow  of 
the  mountain,  where  it  swept  steeply  down  into  the  val- 
ley of  the  Darro.  In  the  centre  of  this  basin  yawned  the 
mouth  of  the  pit.  Sanchica  ventured  to  the  verge,  and 
peeped  in.  All  was  as  black  as  pitch,  and  gave  an  idea 
of  immeasurable  depth.  Her  blood  ran  cold ;  she  drew 
back,  then  peeped  in  again,  then  would  have  run  away, 
then  took  another  peep,^the  very  horror  of  the  thing 


TEE  BLACK  PIT.  42^ 

was  delightful  to  her.  At  length  she  rolled  a  large  stone, 
and  pushed  it  over  the  brink.  For  some  time  it  fell  in 
silence ;  then  struck  some  rocky  projection  with  a  violent 
crash ;  then  rebounded  from  side  to  side,  rumbling  and 
tumbling,  with  a  noise  like  thunder ;  then  made  a  final 
splash  into  water,  far,  far  below,' — and  all  was  again 
silent. 

The  silence,  however,  did  not  long  continue.  It  seem- 
ed as  if  something  had  been  awakened  within  this  dreary 
abyss.  A  murmuring  sound  gradually  rose  out  of  the  pit 
like  the  hum  and  buzz  of  a  beehive.  It  grew  louder 
and  louder,  there  was  the  confusion  of  voices  as  of  a 
distant  multitude,  together  with  the  faint  din  of  arms, 
clash  of  cymbals  and  clangor  of  trumpets,  as  if  some 
army  were  marshalling  for  battle  in  the  very  bowels  of 
the  mountain. 

The  child  drew  off  with  silent  awe,  and  hastened  back 
to  the  place  where  she  had  left  her  parents  and  their 
companions.  All  were  gone.  The  bonfire  was  expiring, 
and  its  last  wreath  of  smoke  curling  up  in  the  moonshine. 
The  distant  fires  that  had  blazed  along  the  mountains 
and  in  the  Vega  were  all  extinguished,  and  everything 
seemed  to  have  sunk  to  repose.  Sanchica  called  her 
parents  and  some  of  her  companions  by  name,  but  re- 
ceived no  reply.  She  ran  down  the  side  of  the  mountain, 
and  by  the  gardens  of  the  Generalife,  until  she  arrived  in 
the  alley  of  trees  leading  to  the  Alhambra,  when  she 
seated  herself  on  a  bench  of  a  woody  recess,  to  recover 


430  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

breath.  Tlie  bell  from  the  watch-tower  of  the  Alhambra 
tolled  micluight.  There  was  a  deep  tranquillity  as  if  all 
nature  slept ;  excepting  the  low  tinkling  sound  of  an  un- 
seen stream  that  ran  under  the  covert  of  the  bushes. 
The  breathing  sweetness  of  the  atmosphere  was  lulling 
her  to  sleep,  when  her  eye  was  caught  by  something 
glittering  at  a  distance,  and  to  her  surprise  she  beheld 
a  long  cavalcade  of  Moorish  warriors  pouring  down  the 
mountain-side  and  along  the  leafy  avenues.  Some  were 
armed  with  lances  and  shields ;  others,  with  cimeters  and 
battle-axes,  and  with  polished  cuirasses  that  flashed  in 
the  moonbeams.  Their  horses  pranced  proudly  and 
champed  upon  their  bits,  but  their  tramp  caused  no  more 
sound  than  if  they  had  been  shod  with  felt,  and  the 
riders  were  all  as  pale  as  death.  Among  them  rode  a 
beautiful  lady,  with  a  crowned  head  and  long  golden 
locks  entwined  with  pearls.  The  housings  of  her  palfrey 
were  of  crimson  velvet  embroidered  with  gold,  and  swept 
the  earth ;  but  she  rode  all  disconsolate,  with  eyes  ever 
fixed  upon  the  ground. 

Then  succeeded  a  train  of  courtiers  magnificently  ar- 
rayed in  robes  and  turbans  of  divers  colors,  and  amidst 
them,  on  a  cream-colored  charger,  rode  king  Boabdil  el 
Chico,  in  a  royal  mantle  covered  with  jewels,  and  a  crown 
sparkling  with  diamonds.  The  little  Sanchica  knew  him 
by  his  yellow  beard,  and  his  resemblance  to  his  portrait, 
which  she  had  often  seen  in  the  picture-gallery  of  the 
Generalife.     She  gazed  in  wonder  and  admiration  at  this 


THE  SUBTERRANEAN  HALL.  431 

royal  pageant,  as  it  passed  glistening  among  the  trees ; 
but  though  she  knew  these  monarchs  and  courtiers  and 
warriors,  so  pale  and  silent,  were  out  of  the  common 
course  of  nature,  and  things  of  magic  and  enchantment, 
yet  she  looked  on  with  a  bold  heart,  such  courage  did 
she  derive  from  the  mystic  talisman  of  the  hand,  which 
was  suspended  about  her  neck. 

The  cavalcade  having  passed  by,  she  rose  and  followed. 
It  continued  on  to  the  great  Gate  of  Justice,  which  stood 
wide  open ;  the  old  invalid  sentinels  on  duty  lay  on  the 
stone  benches  of  the  barbican,  buried  in  profound  and 
apparently  charmed  sleep,  and  the  phantom  pageant 
swept  noiselessly  by  them  with  flaunting  banner  and 
triumphant  state.  Sanchica  would  have  followed;  but 
to  her  surprise  she  beheld  an  opening  in  the  earth,  with- 
in the  barbican,  leading  down  beneath  the  foundations 
of  the  tower.  She  entered  for  a  little  distance,  and  was 
encouraged  to  proceed  by  finding  steps  rudely  hewn  in 
the  rock,  and  a  vaulted  passage  here  and  there  lit  up  by 
a  silver  lamp,  which,  while.it  gave  light,  diffused  likewise 
a  grateful  fragrance.  Venturing  on,  she  came  at  last  to  a 
great  hall,  wrought  out  of  the  heart  of  the  mountain,  mag- 
nificently furnished  in  the  Moorish  style,  and  lighted  up 
by  silver  and  crystal  lamps.  Here,  on  an  ottoman,  sat  an 
old  man  in  Moorish  dress,  with  a  long  white  beard,  nod- 
ding and  dozing,  with  a  staff  in  his  hand,  which  seemed 
ever  to  be  slipping  from  his  grasp ;  while  at  a  little  dis- 
tance sat  a  beautiful  lady,  in  ancient  Spanish  dress,  with 


432  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

a  coronet  all  sparkling  with  diamonds,  and  her  hair  en- 
twined with  pearls,  who  was  softly  playing  on  a  silver 
lyre.  The  little  Sanchica  now  recollected  a  story  she 
had  heard  among  the  old  people  of  the  Alhambra,  con- 
cerning a  Gothic  princess  confined  in  the  centre  of  the 
mountain  by  an  old  Arabian  magician,  whom  she  kept 
bound  up  in  magic  sleep  by  the  power  of  music. 

The  lady  paused  with  surprise  at  seeing  a  mortal  in 
that  enchanted  hall.  "Is  it  the  eve  of  the  blessed  St. 
John?"  said  she. 

"It  is,"  replied  Sanchica. 

"  Then  for  one  night  the  magic  charm  is  suspended. 
Come  hither,  child,  and  fear  not.  I  am  a  Christian  like 
thyself,  though  bound  here  by  enchantment.  Touch  my 
fetters  with  the  talisman  that  hangs  about  thy  neck,  and 
for  this  night  I  shall  be  free." 

So  saying,  she  opened  her  robes  and  displayed  a  broad 
golden  band  round  her  waist,  and  a  golden  chain  that 
fastened  her  to  the  ground.  The  child  hesitated  not  to 
apply  the  little  hand  of  jet  to  the  golden  band,  and  imme- 
diately the  chain  fell  to  the  earth.  At  the  sound  the  old 
man  woke  and  began  to  rub  his  eyes  ;  but  the  lady  ran 
her  fingers  over  the  chords  of  the  lyre,  and  again  he  fell 
into  a  slumber  and  began  to  nod,  and  his  staff  to  falter 
in  his  hand.  "Now,"  said  the  lady,  "touch  his  stafif 
with  the  talismanic  hand  of  jet."  The  child  did  so,  and 
it  fell  from  his  grasp,  and  he  sank  in  a  deep  sleep  on  the 
ottoman.     The  lady  gently  laid  the  silver  lyre  on  the  ot- 


8RAI)0WT  GRANDEUR.  433 

toman,  leaning  it  against  the  head  of  the  sleeping  magi- 
cian ;  then  touching  the  chords  until  they  vibrated  in  his 
ear, — "  O  potent  spirit  of  harmony,"  said  she,  ''  continue 
thus  to  hold  his  senses  in  thraldom  till  the  return  of 
day.  Now  follow  me,  my  child,"  continued  she,  "  and 
thou  shalt  behold  the  Alhambra  as  it  was  in  the  days  of 
its  glory,  for  thou  hast  a  magic  talisman  that  reveals  all 
enchantments."  Sanchica  followed  the  lady  in  silence. 
They  passed  up  through  the  entrance  of  the  cavern  into 
the  barbican  of  the  Gate  of  Justice,  and  thence  to  the 
Plaza  de  los  Algibes,  or  esplanade  within  the  fortress. 

This  was  all  filled  with  Moorish  soldiery,  horse  and 
foot,  marshalled  in  squadrons,  with  banners  displayed. 
There  were  royal  guards  also  at  the  portal,  and  rows  of 
African  blacks  with  drawn  cimeters.  No  one  spoke  a 
word,  and  Sanchica  passed  on  fearlessly  after  her  con- 
ductor. Her  astonishment  increased  on  entering  the 
royal  palace,  in  which  she  had  been  reared.  The  broad 
moonshine  lit  up  all  the  halls  and  courts  and  gardens 
almost  as  brightly  as  if  it  were  day,  but  revealed  a  far 
different  scene  from  that  to  which  she  was  accustomed. 
The  walls  of  the  apartments  were  no  longer  stained  and 
rent  by  time.  Instead  of  cobwebs,  they  were  now  hung 
with  rich  silks  of  Damascus,  and  the  gildings  and  ara- 
besque paintings  were  restored  to  their  original  bril- 
liancy and  freshness.  The  halls,  no  longer  naked  and 
unfurnished,  were  set  out  with  divans  and  ottomans  of 
the  rarest  stuffs,  embroidered  with  pearls  and  studded 


434  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

with  precious  gems,  and  all  the  fountains  in  the  courts 
and  gardens  were  playing. 

The  kitchens  were  again  in  full  operation :  cooks  were 
busy  preparing  shadowy  dishes,  and  roasting  and  boiling 
the  phantoms  of  pullets  and  partridges  ;  servants  were 
hurrying  to  and  fro  with  silver  dishes  heaped  up  with 
dainties,  and  arranging  a  delicious  banquet.  The  Court 
of  Lions  was  thronged  with  guards,  and  courtiers,  and 
alfaquis,  as  in  the  old  times  of  the  Moors;  and  at  the 
upper  end,  in  the  saloon  of  judgment,  sat  Boabdil  on  his 
throne,  surrounded  by  his  court,  and  swaying  a  shadowy 
sceptre  for  the  night.  Notwithstanding  all  this  throng 
and  seeming  bustle,  not  a  voice  nor  a  footstep  was  to  be 
heard ;  nothing  interrupted  the  midnight  silence  but  the 
splashing  of  the  fountains.  The  little  Sanchica  followed 
her  conductress  in  mute  amazement  about  the  palace, 
until  they  came  to  a  portal  opening  to  the  vaulted  pas- 
sages beneath  the  great  tower  of  Comares.  On  each  side 
of  the  portal  sat  the  figure  of  a  nymph,  wrought  out  of 
alabaster.  Their  heads  were  turned  aside,  and  their  re- 
gards fixed  upon  the  same  spot  within  the  vault.  The 
enchanted  lady  paused,  and  beckoned  the  child  to  her. 
"  Here,"  said  she,  "  is  a  great  secret,  which  I  will  reveal 
to  thee  in  reward  for  thy  faith  and  courage.  These  dis- 
creet statues  watch  over  a  treasure  hidden  in  old  times 
by  a  Moorish  king.  Tell  thy  father  to  search  the  spot 
on  which  their  eyes  are  fixed,  and  he  will  find  what  will 
make  him  richer  than  any  man  in  Granada.     Thy  inno- 


THE  MYRTLE  WREATH.  435 

cent  hands  alone,  however,  gifted  as  thou  art  also  with 
the  talisman,  can  remove  the  treasure.  Bid  thy  father 
use  it  discreetly,  and  devote  a  part  of  it  to  the  perform- 
ance of  daily  masses  for  my  deliverance  from  this  unholy 
enchantment." 

"When  the  lady  had  spoken  these' words,  she  led  the 
child  onward  to  the  little  garden  of  Lindaraxa,  which  is 
hard  by  the  vault  of  the  statues.  The  moon  trembled 
upon  the  waters  of  the  solitary  fountain  in  the  centre  of 
the  garden,  and  shed  a  tender  light  upon  the  orange  and 
citron  trees.  The  beautiful  lady  plucked  a  branch  of 
myrtle  and  wreathed  it  round  the  head  of  the  child. 
"Let  this  be  a  memento,"  said  she,  "of  what  I  have  re- 
vealed to  thee,  and  a  testimonial  of  its  truth.  My  hour 
is  come  ;  I  must  return  to  the  enchanted  hall ;  follow  me 
not,  lest  evil  befall  thee ; — farewell.  Eemember  what  I 
have  said,  and  have  masses  performed  for  my  deliver- 
ance." So  saying,  the  lady  entered  a  dark  passage  lead- 
ing beneath  the  tower  of  Comares,  and  was  no  longer 
seen. 

The  faint  crowing  of  a  cock  was  now  heard  from  the 
cottages  below  the  Alhambra,  in  the  valley  of  the  Darro, 
and  a  pale  streak  of  light  began  to  appear  above  the 
eastern  mountains.  A  slight  wind  arose,  there  was  a 
sound  like  the  rustling  of  dry  leaves  through  the  courts 
and  corridors,  and  door  after  door  shut  to  with  a  jarring 
sound. 

Sanchica  returned  to  the  scenes  she  had  so  lately  be- 


4:36  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

held  thronged  with  the  shadowy  multitude,  but  Boabdil 
and  his  phantom  court  were  gone.  The  moon  shone  into 
empty  halls  and  galleries  stripped  of  their  transient 
splendor,  stained  and  dilapidated  by  time,  and  hung  with 
cobwebs.  The  bat  flitted  about  in  the  uncertain  light, 
and  the  frog  croaked  from  the  fish-pond. 

Sanchica  now  made  the  best  of  her  way  to  a  remote 
staircase  that  led  up  to  the  humble  apartment  occupied 
by  her  family.  The  door  as  usual  was  open,  for  Lope 
Sanchez  was  too  poor  to  need  bolt  or  bar;  she  crept 
quietly  to  her  pallet,  and,  putting  the  myrtle  wreath  be- 
neath her  pillow,  soon  fell  asleep. 

In  the  morning  she  related  all  that  had  befallen  her  to 
her  father.  Lope  Sanchez,  however,  treated  the  whole 
as  a  mere  dream,  and  laughed  at  the  child  for  her  credu- 
lity. He  went  forth  to  his  customary  labors  in  the  gar- 
den, but  had  not  been  there  long  when  his  little  daugh- 
ter came  running  to  him  almost  breathless.  "Father! 
father ! "  cried  she,  "  behold  the  myrtle  wreath  which  the 
Moorish  lady  bound  round  my  head !  " 

Lope  Sanchez  gazed  with  astonishment,  for  the  stalk 
of  the  myrtle  was  of  pure  gold,  and  every  leaf  was  a  spar- 
kling emerald !  Being  not  much  accustomed  to  precious 
stones,  he  was  ignorant  of  the  real  value  of  the  wreath, 
but  he  saw  enough  to  convince  him  that  it  was  some- 
thing more  substantial  than  the  stuff  of  which  dreams 
are  generally  made,  and  that  at  any  rate  the  child  had 
dreamt  to  some  purpose.     His  first  care  was  to  enjoin 


TEE  WELL-GUARDED  SECRET,  437 

tlie  most  absolute  secrecy  -iipon  his  daughter;  in  this 
respect,  however,  he  was  secure,  for  she  had  discretion 
far  beyond  her  years  or  sex.  He  then  repaired  to  the 
vault,  where  stood  the  statues  of  the  two  alabaster 
nymphs.  He  remarked  that  their  heads  were  turned 
from  the  portal,  and  that  the  regards  of  each  were  fixed 
upon  the  same  point  in  the  interior  of  the  building. 
Lope  Sanchez  could  not  but  admire  this  most  discreet 
contrivance  for  guarding  a  secret.  He  drew  a  line  from 
the  eyes  of  the  statues  to  the  point  of  regard,  made  a 
private  mark  on  the  wall,  and  then  retired. 

All  day,  however,  the  mind  of  Lope  Sanchez  was  dis- 
tracted with  a  thousand  cares.  He  could  not  help  hover- 
ing within  distant  view  of  the  two  statues,  and  became 
nervous  from  the  dread  that  the  golden  secret  might  be 
discovered.  Every  footstep  that  approached  the  place 
made  him  tremble.  He  would  have  given  anything  could 
he  but  have  turned  the  heads  of  the  statues,  forgetting 
that  they  had  looked  precisely  in  the  same  direction  for 
some  hundreds  of  years,  without  any  person  being  the 
wiser. 

"A  plague  upon  them,"  he  would  say  to  himself, 
"  they'll  betray  all ;  did  ever  mortal  hear  of  such  a  mode 
of  guarding  a  secret?"  Then  on  hearing  any  one  ad- 
vance, he  would  steal  off,  as  though  his  very  lurking  near 
the  place  would  awaken  suspicion.  Then  he  would  re- 
turn cautiously,  and  peep  from  a  distance  to  see  if  every- 
thing was  secure,  but  the  sight  of  the  statues  would  again 


438  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

call  forth  his  indignation.  "  Ay,  there  they  stand,"  would 
he  say,  "always  looking,  and  looking,  and  looking,  just 
where  they  should  not.  Confound  them  I  they  are  just 
like  all  their  sex ;  if  they  have  not  tongues  to  tattle  with, 
they'll  be  sure  to  do  it  with  their  eyes." 

At  length,  to  his  relief,  the  long  anxious  day  drew  to  a 
close.  The  sound  of  footsteps  was  no  longer  heard  in 
the  echoing  halls  of  the  Alhambra;  the  last  stranger 
passed  the  threshold,  the  great  portal  was  barred  and 
bolted,  and  the  bat  and  the  frog  and  the  hooting  owl 
gradually  resumed  their  nightly  vocations  in  the  desert- 
ed palace. 

Lope  Sanchez  waited,  however,  until  the  night  was  far 
advanced  before  he  ventured  with  his  little  daughter  to 
the  hall  of  the  two  nymphs.  He  found  them  looking  as 
knowingly  and  mysteriously  as  ever  at  the  secret  place  of 
deposit.  "  By  your  leaves,  gentle  ladies,"  thought  Lope 
Sanchez,  as  he  passed  between  them,  "  I  will  relieve  you 
from  this  charge  that  must  have  set  so  heavy  in  your 
minds  for  the  last  two  or  three  centuries."  He  accord- 
ingly went  to  work  at  the  part  of  the  wall  which  he  had 
marked,  and  in  a  little  while  laid  open  a  concealed  re- 
cess, in  which  stood  two  great  jars  of  porcelain.  He 
attempted  to  draw  them  forth,  but  they  were  immovable, 
until  touched  by  the  innocent  hand  of  his  little  daughter. 
"With  her  aid  he  dislodged  them  from  their  niche,  and 
found,  to  his  great  joy,  that  they  were  filled  with  pieces 
of    Moorish    gold,   mingled    with    jewels    and   precious 


A  SPIRITTTAL  COUNSELLOR.  439 

stones.  Before  daylight  lie  managed  to  convey  them  to 
his  chamber,  and  left  the  two  guardian  statues  with  their 
eyes  still  fixed  on  the  vacant  wall. 

Lope  Sanchez  had  thus  on  a  sudden  become  a  rich 
man;  but  riches,  as  usual,  brought  a  world  of  cares  to 
which  he  had  hitherto  been  a  stranger.  How  was  he  to 
convey  away  his  wealth  with  safety?  How  was  he  even 
to  enter  upon  the  enjoyment  of  it  without  awakening  sus- 
picion ?  Now,  too,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  the  dread 
of  robbers  entered  into  his  mind.  He  looked  with  terror 
at  the  insecurity  of  his  habitation,  and  went  to  work  to 
barricade  the  doors  and  windows ;  yet  after  all  his  pre- 
cautions he  could  not  sleep  soundly.  His  usual  gayety 
was  at  an  end,  he  had  no  longer  a  joke  or  a  song  for  his 
neighbors,  and,  in  short,  became  the  most  miserable  ani- 
mal in  the  Alhambra.  His  old  comrades  remarked  this 
alteration,  pitied  him  heartily,  and  began  to  desert  him ; 
thinking  he  must  be  falling  into  want,  and  in  danger  of 
looking  to  them  for  assistance.  Little  did  they  suspect 
that  his  only  calamity  was  riches. 

The  wife  of  Lope  Sanchez  shared  his  anxiety,  but  then 
she  had  ghostly  comfort.  We  ought  before  this  to  have 
mentioned  that  Lope,  being  rather  a  light  inconsiderate 
little  man,  his  wife  was  accustomed,  in  all  grave  matters, 
to  seek  the  counsel  and  ministry  of  her  confessor  Fray 
Simon,  a  sturdy,  broad-shouldered,  blue-bearded,  bullet- 
headed  friar  of  the  neighboring  convent  of  San  Francisco, 
who  was  in  fact  the  spiritual  comforter  of  half  the  good 


440  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

wives  of  tlie  neighborhood.  He  was  moreover  in  great 
esteem  among  divers  sisterhoods  of  nuns;  who  requited 
him  for  his  ghostly  services  by  frequent  presents  of  those 
little  dainties  and  knickknacks  manufactured  in  convents, 
such  as  delicate  confections,  sweet  biscuits,  and  bottles 
of  spiced  cordials,  found  to  be  marvelous  restoratives 
after  fasts  and  vigils. 

Fray  Simon  thrived  in  the  exercise  of  his  functions. 
His  oily  skin  glistened  in  the  sunshine  as  he  toiled  up 
the  hill  of  the  Alhambra  on  a  sultry  day.  Yet  notwith- 
standing his  sleek  condition,  the  knotted  rope  round  his 
waist  showed  the  austerity  of  his  self-discipline ;  the 
multitude  doffed  their  caps  to  him  as  a  mirror  of  piety, 
and  even  the  dogs  scented  the  odor  of  sanctity  that  ex- 
haled from  his  garments,  and  howled  from  their  kennels 
as  he  passed. 

Such  was  Fray  Simon,  the  spiritual  counsellor  of  the 
comely  wife  of  Lope  Sanchez ;  and  as  the  father  confes- 
sor is  the  domestic  confidant  of  women  in  humble  life  in 
Spain,  he  was  soon  acquainted,  in  great  secrecy,  with  the 
story  of  the  hidden  treasure. 

The  friar  opened  his  eyes  and  mouth,  and  crossed  him■^ 
self  a  dozen  times  at  the  news.  After  a  moment's  pause, 
"Daughter  of  my  soul!"  said  he,  "know  that  thy  hus- 
band has  committed  a  double  sin — a  sin  against  both 
state  and  church !  The  treasure  he  hath  thus  seized 
upon  for  himself,  being  found  in  the  royal  domains, 
belongs  of  course  to  the  crown ;  but  being  infidel  wealth, 


FIBST-FBUITS.  441 

rescued  as  it  were  from  the  very  fangs  of  Satan,  should 
be  devoted  to  the  oimrch.  Still,  however,  the  matter  may 
be  accommodated.     Bring  hither  thy  myrtle  wreath." 

When  the  good  father  beheld  it,  his  eyes  twinkled 
more  than  ever  with  admiration  of  the  size  and  beauty  of 
the  emeralds.  "This,"  said  he,  "being  the  first-fruits  of 
this  discovery,  should  be  dedicated  to  pious  purposes.  I 
will  hang  it  up  as  a  votive  offering  before  the  image  of 
San  Francisco  in  our  chapel,  and  will  earnestly  pray  to 
him,  this  very  night,  that  your  husband  be  permitted  to 
remain  in  quiet  possession  of  your  wealth." 

The  good  dame  was  delighted  to  make  her  peace  with 
heaven  at  so  cheap  a  rate,  and  the  friar,  putting  the 
wreath  under  his  mantle,  departed  with  saintly  steps 
toward  his  convent. 

When  Lope  Sanchez  came  home,  his  wife  told  him 
what  had  passed.  He  was  excessively  provoked,  for  he 
lacked  his  wife's  devotion,  and  had  for  some  time 
groaned  in  secret  at  the  domestic  visitations  of  the  friar. 
"Woman,"  said  he,  "what  hast  thou  done?  thou  hast 
put  everything  at  hazard  by  thy  tattling." 

"What!"  cried  the  good  woman,  "would  you  forbid 
my  disburdening  my  conscience  to  my  confessor?" 

"  No,  wife !  confess  as  many  of  your  own  sins  as  you 
please ;  but  as  to  this  money-digging,  it  is  a  sin  of  my  own, 
and  my  conscience  is  very  easy  under  the  weight  of  it." 

There  was  no  use,  however,  in  complaining ;  the  secret 
was  told,  and,  like  water  spilled  on  the  sand,  was  not 


442  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

again  to  be  gathered.  Their  only  chance  was,  that  the 
friar  would  be  discreet. 

The  next  day,  while  Lope  Sanchez  was  abroad,  there 
was  an  humble  knocking  at  the  door,  and  Fray  Simon 
entered  with  meek  and  demure  countenance. 

"Daughter,"  said  he,  "I  have  earnestly  prayed  to  San 
Francisco,  and  he  has  heard  my  prayer.  In  the  dead  of 
the  night  the  saint  appeared  to  me  in  a  dream,  but  with 
a  frowning  aspect.  *Why,'  said  he,  'dost  thou  pray  to 
me  to  dispense  with  this  treasure  of  the  Gentiles,  when 
thou  seest  the  poverty  of  my  chapel?  Go  to  the  house 
of  Lope  Sanchez,  crave  in  my  name  a  portion  of  the 
Moorish  gold,  to  furnish  two  candlesticks  for  the  main 
altar,  and  let  him  possess  the  residue  in  peace.'  " 

When  the  good  woman  heard  of  this  vision,  she 
crossed  herself  with  awe,  and  going  to  the  secret  place 
where  Lope  had  hid  the  treasure,  she  filled  a  great 
leathern  purse  with  pieces  of  Moorish  gold,  and  gave  it 
to  the  friar.  The  pious  monk  bestowed  upon  her,  in 
return,  benedictions  enough,  if  paid  by  Heaven,  to  enrich 
her  race  to  the  latest  posterity ;  then  slipping  the  purse 
into  the  sleeve  of  his  habit,  he  folded  his  hands  upon  his 
breast,  and  departed  with  an  air  of  humble  thankfulness. 

When  Lope  Sanchez  heard  of  this  second  donation  to 
the  church,  he  had  wellnigh  lost  his  senses.  "  Unfortu- 
nate man,"  cried  he,  "  what  will  become  of  me  ?  I  shall 
be  robbed  by  piecemeal ;  I  shall  be  ruined  and  brought 
to  beggary ! " 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  FLIGHT,  443 

It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  his  wife  could 
pacify  him,  by  reminding  him  of  the  countless  wealth 
that  yet  remained,  and  how  considerate  it  was  for  San 
Francisco  to  rest  contented  with  so  small  a  portion. 

Unluckily,  Fray  Simon  had  a  number  of  poor  rela- 
tions to  be  provided  for,  not  to  mention  some  half- 
dozen  sturdy  bullet-headed  orphan  children  and  destitute 
foundlings  that  he  had  taken  under  his  care.  He  re- 
peated his  visits,  therefore,  from  day  to  day,  with  solicita- 
tions on  behalf  of  Saint  Dominick,  Saint  Andrew,  Saint 
James,  until  poor  Lope  was  driven  to  despair,  and  found 
that  unless  he  got  out  of  the  reach  of  this  holy  friar,  he 
should  have  to  make  peace-offerings  to  every  saint  in  the 
calendar.  He  determined,  therefore,  to  pack  up  his  re- 
maining wealth,  beat  a  secret  retreat  in  the  night,  and 
make  off  to  another  part  of  the  kingdom. 

Full  of  his  project,  he  bought  a  stout  mule  for  the 
purpose,  and  tethered  it  in  a  gloomy  vault  underneath 
the  tower  of  the  seven  floors ;  the  very  place  whence  the 
Belludo,  or  goblin  horse,  is  said  to  issue  forth  at  mid- 
night, and  scour  the  streets  of  Granada,  pursued  by  a 
pack  of  hell-hounds.  Lope  Sanchez  had  little  faith  in 
the  story,  but  availed  himself  of  the  dread  occasioned  by 
it,  knowing  that  no  one  would  be  likely  to  pry  into  the 
subterranean  stable  of  the  phantom  steed.  He  sent  off 
his  family  in  the  course  of  the  day,  with  orders  to  wait 
for  him  at  a  distant  village  of  the  Vega.  As  the  night 
advanced,  he  conveyed  his  treasure  to  the  vault  under 


444  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

the  tower,  and  having  loaded  his  mule,  he  led  it  forth, 
and  cautiously  descended  the  dusky  avenue. 

Honest  Lope  had  taken  his  measures  with  the  utmost 
secrecy,  imparting  them  to  no  one  but  the  faithful  wife 
of  his  bosom.  By  some  miraculous  revelation,  however, 
they  became  known  to  Fray  Simon.  The  zealous  friar 
beheld  these  infidel  treasures  on  the  point  of  slipping 
forever  out  of  his  grasp,  and  determined  to  have  one 
more  dash  at  them  for  the  benefit  of  the  church  and  San 
Francisco.  Accordingly,  when  the  bells  had  rung  for 
animas,  and  all  the  Alhambra  was  quiet,  he  stole  out  of 
his  convent,  and  descending  through  the  Gate  of  Justice, 
concealed  himself  among  the  thickets  of  roses  and  laurels 
that  border  the  great  avenue.  Here  he  remained,  count- 
ing the  quarters  of  hours  as  they  were  sounded  on  the 
bell  of  the  watch-tower,  and  listening  to  the  dreary  hoot- 
ings  of  owls,  and  the  distant  barking  of  dogs  from  the 
gypsy  caverns. 

At  length  he  heard  the  tramp  of  hoofs,  and,  through 
the  gloom  of  the  overshading  trees,  imperfectly  beheld  a 
steed  descending  the  avenue.  The  sturdy  friar  chuckled 
at  the  idea  of  the  knowing  turn  he  was  about  to  serve 
honest  Lope. 

Tucking  up  the  skirts  of  his  habit,  and  wriggling  like 
a  cat  watching  a  mouse,  he  waited  until  his  prey  was 
directly  before  him,  when  darting  forth  from  his  leafy 
covert,  and  putting  one  hand  on  the  shoulder  and  the 
other  on  the  crupper,  he  made  a  vault  that  would  not 


THE  BEDEVILLED  FRIAR,  445 

have  disgraced  the  most  experienced  master  of  equita- 
tion,  and  alighted  well -forked  astride  the  steed.  "Ah 
ha ! "  said  the  sturdy  friar,  "  we  shall  now  see  who  best 
understands  the  game."  He  had  scarce  uttered  the  words 
when  the  mule  began  to  kick,  and  rear,  and  plunge, 
and  then  set  off  full  speed  down  the  hill.  The  friar  at- 
tempted to  check  him,  but  in  vain.  He  bounded  from 
rock  to  rock,  and  bush  to  bush ;  the  friar's  habit  was 
torn  to  ribbons  and  fluttered  in  the  wind,  his  shaven 
poll  received  many  a  hard  knock  from  the  branches  of 
the  trees,  and  many  a  scratch  from  the  brambles.  To 
add  to  his  terror  and  distress,  he  found  a  pack  of  seven 
hounds  in  full  cry  at  his  heels,  and  perceived,  too  late, 
that  he  was  actually  mounted  upon  the  terrible  Belludo ! 
Away  then  they  went,  according  to  the  ancient  phrase, 
"pull  devil,  pull  friar,"  down  the  great  avenue,  across  the 
Plaza  Nueva,  along  the  Zacatin,  around  the  Yivarrambla 
— never  did  huntsman  and  hound  make  a  more  furious 
run,  or  more  infernal  uproar.  In  vain  did  the  friar  in- 
voke every  saint  in  the  calendar,  and  the  holy  Yirgin  into 
the  bargain ;  every  time  he  mentioned  a  name  of  the  kind 
it  was  like  a  fresh  application  of  the  spur,  and  made  the 
Belludo  bound  as  high  as  a  house.  Through  the  re- 
mainder of  the  night  was  the  unlucky  Fray  Simon  car- 
ried hither  and  thither,  and  whither  he  would  not,  until 
every  bone  in  his  body  ached,  and  he  suffered  a  loss  of 
leather  too  grievous  to  be  mentioned.  At  length  the 
crowing  of  a  cock  gave  the  signal  of  returning  day.     At 


446  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

tlie  sound  the  goblin  steed  wheeled  about,  and  galloped 
back  for  his  tower.  Again  he  scoured  the  Yivarrambla, 
the  Zacatin,  the  Plaza  Nueva,  and  the  avenue  of  foun- 
tains, the  seven  dogs  yelling,  and  barking,  and  leaping 
up,  and  snapping  at  the  heels  of  the  terrified  friar.  The 
first  streak  of  day  had  just  appeared  as  they  reached  the 
tower;  here  the  goblin  steed  kicked  up  his  heels,  sent 
the  friar  a  summerset  through  the  air,  plunged  into  the 
dark  vault  followed  by  the  infernal  pack,  and  a  profound 
silence  succeeded  to  the  late  deafening  clamor. 

Was  ever  so  diabolical  a  trick  played  off  upon  a  holy 
friar?  A  peasant  going  to  his  labors  at  early  dawn  found 
the  unfortunate  Fray  Simon  lying  under  a  fig-tree  at  the 
foot  of  the  tower,  but  so  bruised  and  bedevilled  that  he 
could  neither  speak  nor  move.  He  was  conveyed  with 
all  care  and  tenderness  to  his  cell,  and  the  story  went 
that  he  had  been  waylaid  and  maltreated  by  robbers.  A 
day  or  two  elapsed  before  he  recovered  the  use  of  his 
limbs  ;  he  consoled  himself,  in  the  mean  time,  with  the 
thoughts  that  though  the  mule  with  the  treasure  had  es- 
caped him,  he  had  previously  had  some  rare  pickings  at 
the  infidel  spoils.  His  first  care  on  being  able  to  use  his 
limbs,  was  to  search  beneath  his  pallet,  where  he  had 
secreted  the  myrtle  wreath  and  the  leathern  pouches  of 
gold  extracted  from  the  piety  of  dame  Sanchez.  What 
was  his  dismay  at  finding  the  wreath,  in  effect,  but  a 
withered  branch  of  myrtle,  and  the  leathern  pouches 
filled  with  sand  and  gravel ! 


DON  LOPE  AND  HIS  FAMILY.  447 

Fray  Simon,  with  all  his  chagrin,  had  the  discretion  to 
hold  his  tongue,  for  to  betray  the  secret  might  draw  on 
him  the  ridicule  of  the  public,  and  the  punishment  of  his 
superior.  It  was  not  until  many  years  afterwards,  on 
his  death-bed,  that  he  revealed  to  his  confessor  his  noc- 
turnal ride  on  the  Belludo. 

Nothing  was  heard  of  Lope  Sanchez  for  a  long  time 
after  his  disappearance  from  the  Alhambra.  His  mem- 
ory was  always  cherished  as  that  of  a  merry  companion, 
though  it  was  feared,  fr^m  the  care  and  melancholy 
observed  in  his  conduct  shortly  before  his  mysterious 
departure,  that  poverty  and  distress  had  driven  him  to 
some  extremity.  Some  years  afterwards  one  of  his  old 
companions,  an  invalid  soldier,  being  at  Malaga,  was 
knocked  down  and  nearly  run  over  by  a  coach  and  six. 
The  carriage  stopped ;  an  old  gentleman,  magnificently 
dressed,  with  a  bag-wig  and  sword,  stepped  out  to  assist 
the  poor  invalid.  What  was  the  astonishment  of  the 
latter  to  behold  in  this  grand  cavalier  his  old  friend 
Lope  Sanchez,  who  was  actually  celebrating  the  marri- 
age of  his  daughter  Sanchica  with  one  of  the  first  gran- 
dees in  the  land. 

The  carriage  contained  the  bridal  party.  There  was 
dame  Sanchez,  now  grown  as  round  as  a  barrel,  and 
dressed  out  with  feathers  and  jewels,  and  necklaces  of 
pearls,  and  necklaces  of  diamonds,  and  rings  on  every 
finger,  altogether  a  finery  of  apparel  that  had  not  been 
seen  since  the  days  of  Queen  Sheba.     The  little  Sanchica 


448  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

had  now  grown  to  be  a  woman,  and  for  grace  and  beauty 
might  have  been  mistaken  for  a  duchess,  if  not  a  prin- 
cess outright.  The  bridegroom  sat  beside  her — rather  a 
withered  spindle-shanked  little  man,  but  this  only  proved 
him  to  be  of  the  true-blue  blood ;  a  legitimate  Spanish 
grandee  being  rarely  above  three  cubits  in  stature.  The 
match  had  been  of  the  mother's  making. 

Eiches  had  not  spoiled  the  heart  of  honest  Lope.  He 
kept  his  old  comrade  with  him  for  several  days ;  feasted 
him  like  a  king,  took  him  to  plays  and  bull-fights,  and  at 
length  sent  him  away  rejoicing,  with  a  big  bag  of  money 
for  himself,  and  another  to  be  distributed  among  his 
ancient  messmates  of  the  Alhambra. 

Lope  always  gave  out  that  a  rich  brother  had  died  in 
America  and  left  him  heir  to  a  copper  mine  ;  but  the 
shrewd  gossips  of  the  Alhambra  insist  that  his  wealth 
was  all  derived  from  his  having  discovered  the  secret 
guarded  by  the  two  marble  nymphs  of  the  Alhambra. 
It  is  remarked  that  these  very  discreet  statues  continue, 
even  unto  the  present  day,  with  their  eyes  fixed  most 
significantly  on  the  same  part  of  the  wall ;  which  leads 
many  to  suppose  there  is  still  some  hidden  treasure  re- 
maining there  well  worthy  the  attention  of  the  enterpris- 
ing traveller.  Though  others,  and  particularly  all  female 
visitors,  regard  them  with  great  complacency  as  lasting 
monuments  of  the  fact  that  women  can  keep  a  secret. 


THE  CEUSADE  OF  THE  GRAND  MASTEE 
OF  ALCANTARA. 

N  the  course  of  a  morning's  research  among  the 
old  chronicles  in  the  Library  of  the  Uniyer- 
sity,  I  came  upon  a  little  episode  in  the  his- 
tory of  Granada,  so  strongly  characteristic  of  the  bigot 
zeal  which  sometimes  inflamed  the  Christian  enterprises 
against  this  splendid  but  devoted  city,  that  I  was  tempt- 
ed to  draw  it  forth  from  the  parchment-bound  volume  in 
which  it  lay  entombed,  and  submit  it  to  the  reader. 

In  the  year  of  redemption,  1394,  there  was  a  valiant 
and  devout  grand  master  of  Alcantara,  named  Martin 
Yahez  de  Barbudo,  who  was  inflamed  with  a  vehement 
desire  to  serve  God  and  fight  the  Moors.  Unfortunately 
for  this  brave  and  pious  cavalier,  a  profound  peace  ex- 
isted between  the  Christian  and  Moslem  powers.  Henry 
HL  had  just  ascended  the  throne  of  Castile,  and  Yusef 
ben  Mohammed  had  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  Granada, 
and  both  were  disposed  to  continue  the  peace  which 
had  prevailed  between  their  fathers.  The  grand  master 
looked  with  repining  at  Moorish  banners  and  weapons, 
which  decorated  his  castle-hall,  trophies  of  the  exploits 
29  449 


450  2lff^  alhambra. 

of  his  predecessors ;  and  repined  at  his  fate  to  exist  in  a 
period  of  sucli  inglorious  tranquillity. 

At  length  his  impatience  broke  through  all  bounds, 
and  seeing  that  he  could  find  no  public  war  in  which  to 
engage,  he  resolved  to  carve  out  a  little  war  for  himself. 
Such  at  least  is  the  account  given  by  some  ancient  chron 
icles,  though  ot?  ers  give  the  following  as  the  motive  for 
this  sudden  resolution  to  go  campaigning. 

As  the  grand  master  was  one  day  seated  at  table  with 
several  of  his  cavaliers,  a  man  suddenly  entered  the  hall, 
— tall,  meagre,  and  bony,  with  haggard  countenance  and 
fiery  eye.  All  recognized  him  for  a  hermit,  who  had 
been  a  soldier  in  his  youth,  but  now  led  a  life  of  peni- 
tence in  a  cave.  He  advanced  to  the  table  and  struck 
upon  it  with  a  fist  that  seemed  of  iron.  "  Cavaliers,"  said 
he,  "why  sit  ye  here  idly,  with  your  weapons  resting 
against  the  wall,  while  the  enemies  of  the  faith  lord  it 
over  the  fairest  portion  of  the  land?  " 

"  Holy  father,  what  wouldst  thou  have  us  do,"  asked 
the  grand  master,  "seeing  the  wars  are  over  and  our 
swords  bound  up  by  treaties  of  peace  ?  " 

"  Listen  to  my  words,"  replied  the  hermit.  "As  I  was 
seated  late  at  night  at  the  entrance  of  my  cave,  contem- 
plating the  heavens,  I  fell  into  a  reverie,  and  a  wonderful 
vision  was  presented  to  me.  I  beheld  the  moon,  a  mere 
crescent,  yet  luminous  as  the  brightest  silver,  and  it  hung 
in  the  heavens  over  the  kingdom  of  Granada.  While  I 
was  looking  at  it,  behold  there  shot  forth  from  the  firma- 


THE  AMBASSADORS.  451 

ment  a  blazing  star,  wliicli,  as  it  went,  drew  after  it  all 
the  stars  of  heaven ;  and  they  assailed  the  moon  and 
drove  it  from  the  skies ;  and  the  whole  firmament  was 
filled  with  the  glory  of  that  blazing  star.  While  mine 
eyes  were  yet  dazzled  by  this  wondrous  sight,  some  one 
stood  by  me  with  snowy  wings  and  a  shining  counte- 
nance. *0h  man  of  prayer,'  said  he,  *  get  thee  to  the 
grand  master  of  Alcantara  and  tell  him  of  the  vision  thou 
hast  beheld.  He  is  the  blazing  star,  destined  to  drive 
the  crescent,  the  Moslem  emblem,  from  the  land.  Let 
him  boldly  draw  the  sword  and  continue  the  good  work 
begun  by  Pelazo  of  old,  and  victory  will  assuredly  attend 
his  banner.' " 

The  grand  master  listened  to  the  hermit  as  to  a  mes- 
senger from  heaveUj  and  followed  his  counsel  in  all 
things.  By  his  advice  he  dispatched  two  of  his  stoutest 
warriors,  armed  cajJ-a-pie,  on  an  embassy  to  the  Moorish 
king.  They  entered  the  gates  of  Granada  without  mo- 
lestation, as  the  nations  were  at  peace ;  and  made  their 
way  to  the  Alhambra,  where  they  were  promptly  ad- 
mitted to  the  king,  who  received  them  in  the  Hall  of  Am- 
bassadors. They  delivered  their  message  roundly  and 
hardly.  "  "We  come,  O  King,  from  Don  Martin  Yanez  de 
Barbudo,  grand  master  of  Alcantara ;  who  affirms  the 
faith  of  Jesus  Christ  to  be  true  and  holy,  and  that  of 
Mahomet  false  and  detestable,  and  he  challenges  thee  to 
maintain  the  contrary,  hand  to  hand,  in  single  combat. 
Shouldst  thou  refuse,  he  offers  to  combat  with  one  hxm- 


452  T^^  ALHAMBRA. 

dred  cavaliers  against  two  hundred;  or,  in  like  propor- 
tion, to  the  number  of  one  thousand,  always  allowing 
thy  faith  a  double  number  of  champions.  Bemember,  O 
King,  that  thou  canst  not  refuse  this  challenge  ;  since  thy 
prophet,  knowing  the  impossibility  of  maintaining  his 
doctrines  by  argument,  has  commanded  his  followers  to 
enforce  them  with  the  sword." 

The  beard  of  king  Yusef  trembled  with  indignation. 
"The  master  of  Alcantara,"  said  he,  "is  a  madman  to 
send  such  a  message,  and  ye  are  saucy  knaves  to  bring  it." 

So  saying,  he  ordered  the  ambassadors  to  be  thrown 
into  a  dungeon,  by  way  of  giving  them  a  lesson  in  di- 
plomacy; and  they  were  roughly  treated  on  their  way 
thither  by  the  populace,  who  were  exasperated  at  this 
insult  to  their  sovereign  and  their  faith. 

The  grand  master  of  Alcantara  could  scarcely  credit 
the  tidings  of  the  maltreatment  of  his  messengers ;  but 
the  hermit  rejoiced  when  they  were  repeated  to  him. 
"God,"  said  he,  "has  blinded  this  infidel  king  for  his 
downfall.  Since  he  has  sent  no  reply  to  thy  defiance, 
consider  it  accepted.  Marshal  thy  forces,  therefore; 
march  forward  to  Granada ;  pause  not  until  thou  seest 
the  gate  of  Elvira.  A  miracle  will  be  wrought  in  thy 
favor.  There  will  be  a  great  battle ;  the  enemy  will  be 
overthrown ;  but  not  one  of  thy  soldiers  will  be  slain." 

The  grand  master  called  upon  every  warrior  zealous 
in  the  Christian  cause  to  aid  him  in  this  crusade.  In  a 
little  while  three  hundred  horsemen  and  a  thousand  foot- 


A  JOiV  OF  ONE  IDEA.  453 

soldiers  rallied  under  his  standard.  The  horsemen  were 
veterans,  seasoned  to  battle  and  well  armed;  but  the 
infantry  were  raw  and  undisciplined.  The  victory,  how- 
ever, was  to  be  miraculous ;  the  grand  master  was  a  man 
of  surpassing  faith,  and  knew  that  the  weaker  the  means 
the  greater  the  miracle.  He  sallied  forth  confidently, 
therefore,  with  his  little  army,  and  the  hermit  strode 
ahead,  bearing  a  cross  on  the  end  of  a  long  pole,  and  be- 
neath it  the  pennon  of  the  order  of  Alcantara. 

As  they  approached  the  city  of  Cordova  they  were 
overtaken  by  messengers,  spurring  in  all  haste,  bearing 
missives  from  the  Castilian  monarch,  forbidding  the  en- 
terprise. The  grand  master  was  a  man  of  a  single  mind 
and  a  single  will;  in  other  words,  a  man  of  one  idea. 
"  Were  I  on  any  other  errand,"  said  he,  "  I  should  obey 
these  letters  as  coming  from  my  lord  the  king ;  but  I  am 
sent  by  a  higher  power  than  the  king.  In  compliance 
with  its  commands  I  have  advanced  the  cross  thus  far 
against  the  infidels ;  and  it  would  be  treason  to  the  stand- 
ard of  Christ  to  turn  back  without  achieving  my  errand." 

So  the  trumpets  were  sounded;  the  cross  was  again 
reared  aloft,  and  the  band  of  zealots  resumed  their 
march.  As  they  passed  through  the  streets  of  Cordova 
the  people  were  amazed  at  beholding  a  hermit  bearing  a 
cross  at  the  head  of  a  warlike  multitude ;  but  when  they 
learnt  that  a  miraculous  victory  was  to  be  effected  and 
Granada  destroyed,  laborers  and  artisans  threw  by  the 
implements  of  their  handicrafts  and  joined  in  the  cru- 


454  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

sade ;  while  a  mercenary  rabble  followed  on  witli  a  view 
of  plunder. 

A  number  of  cavaliers  of  rank  who  lacked  faith  in  the 
promised  miracle,  and  dreaded  the  consequences  of  this 
unprovoked  irruption  into  the  country  of  the  Moor,  as- 
sembled at  the  bridge  of  the  Guadalquivir  and  endeav- 
ored to  dissuade  the  grand  master  from  crossing.  He 
was  deaf  to  prayers,  expostulations,  or  menaces ;  his  fol- 
lowers were  enraged  at  this  opposition  to  the  cause  of 
the  faith ;  they  put  an  end  to  the  parley  by  their  clam- 
ors ;  the  cross  was  again  reared  and  borne  triumphantly 
across  the  bridge. 

The  multitude  increased  as  it  proceeded  ;  by  the  time 
the  grand  master  had  reached  Alcala  la  Keal,  which 
stands  on  a  mountain  overlooking  the  Yega  of  Granada, 
upwards  of  five  thousand  men  on  foot  had  joined  his 
standard. 

At  Alcala  came  forth  Alonzo  Fernandez  de  Cordova, 
Lord  of  Aguilar,  his  brother  Diego  Fernandez,  Marshal 
of  Castile,  and  other  cavaliers  of  valor  and  experience. 
Placing  themselves  in  the  way  of  the  grand  master, 
"  What  madness  is  this,  Don  Martin  ?  "  said  they  ;  "  the 
Moorish  king  has  two  hundred  thousand  foot-soldiers 
and  five  thousand  horse  within  his  walls  ;  what  can  you 
and  your  handful  of  cavaliers  and  your  noisy  rabble  do 
against  such  force  ?  Bethink  you  of  the  disasters  which 
have  befallen  other  Christian  commanders,  who  have 
crossed  these  rocky  borders  with  ten  times  your  force. 


EXPOSTULATIONS.  455 

Think,  too,  of  the  mischief  that  will  be  brought  upon 
this  kingdom  by  an  outrage  of  the  kind  committed  by  a 
man  of  your  rank  and  importance,  a  grand  master  of  Al- 
cantara. Pause,  we  entreat  you,  while  the  truce  is  yet 
unbroken.  Await  within  the  borders  the  reply  of  the 
king  of  Granada  to  your  challenge.  If  he  agree  to  meet 
you  singly,  or  with  champions  two  or  three,  it  will  be 
your  individual  contest,  and  fight  it  out  in  God's  name  ; 
if  he  refuse,  you  may  return  home  with  great  honor  and 
the  disgrace  will  fall  upon  the  Moors." 

Several  cavaliers,  who  had  hitherto  followed  the  grand 
master  with  devoted  zeal,  were  moved  by  these  expostu- 
lations, and  suggested  to  him  the  policy  of  listening  to 
this  advice. 

"  Cavaliers,"  said  he,  addressing  himself  to  Alonzo 
Fernandez  de  Cordova  and  his  companions,  "  I  thank 
you  for  the  counsel  you  have  so  kindly  bestowed  upon 
me,  and  if  I  were  merely  in  pursuit  of  individual  glory  I 
might  be  swayed  by  it.  But  I  am  engaged  to  achieve  a 
great  triumph  of  the  faith,  which  God  is  to  effect  by  mir- 
acle through  my  means.  As  to  you,  cavaliers,"  turning  to 
those  of  his  followers  who  had  wavered,  "  if  your  hearts 
fail  you,  or  you  repent  of  having  put  your  hands  to  this 
good  work,  return,  in  God's  name,  and  my  blessing  go 
with  you.  For  myself,  though  I  have  none  to  stand  by 
me  but  this  holy  hermit,  yet  will  I  assuredly  proceed  ; 
until  I  have  planted  this  sacred  standard  on  the  walls  of 
Granada,  or  perished  in  the  attempt." 


456  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

"Don  Martin  Yanez  de  Barbudo,"  replied  tlie  cava- 
liers, "  we  are  not  men  to  turn  our  backs  upon  our  com- 
mander, however  rash  his  enterprise.  We  spoke  but  in 
caution.  Lead  on,  therefore,  and  if  it  be  to  the  death,  be 
assured  to  the  death  we  will  follow  thee." 

By  this  time  the  common  soldiers  became  impatient. 
"Forward!  forward !"  shouted  they.  "Forward  in  the 
cause  of  faith."  So  the  grand  master  gave  signal,  the 
hermit  again  reared  the  cross  aloft,  and  they  poured 
down  a  defile  of  the  mountain,  with  solemn  chants  of  tri- 
umph. 

That  night  they  encamped  at  the  river  of  Azores,  and 
the  next  morning,  which  was  Sunday,  crossed  the  bor- 
ders. Their  first  pause  was  at  an  atalaya  or  solitary 
tower,  built  upon  a  rock ;  a  frontier  post  to  keep  a  watch 
upon  the  border,  and  give  notice  of  invasion.  It  was 
thence  called  el  Torre  del  Exea  (the  tower  of  the  spy). 
The  grand  master  halted  before  it  and  summoned  its 
petty  garrison  to  surrender.  He  was  answered  by  a 
shower  of  stones  and  arrows,  which  wounded  him  in  the 
hand  and  killed  three  of  his  men. 

"How  is  this,  father?"  said  he  to  the  hermit;  "you 
assured  me  that  not  one  of  my  followers  would  be 
slain ! " 

"  True,  my  son,  but  I  meant  in  the  great  battle  of  the 
infidel  king ;  what  need  is  there  of  miracle  to  aid  in  the 
capture  of  a  petty  tower  ?  " 

The  grand  master  was  satisfied.     He  ordered  wood  to 


THE  BATTLE.  457 

be  piled  against  the  door  of  the  tower  to  burn  it  down. 
In  the  meantime  provisions  were  unloaded  from  the 
sumpter-mules,  and  the  crusaders,  withdrawing  beyond 
bow-shot,  sat  down  on  the  grass  to  a  repast  to  strengthen 
them  for  the  arduous  day's  work  before  them.  While 
thus  engaged,  they  were  startled  by  the  sudden  appear- 
ance of  a  great  Moorish  host.  The  atalayas  had  given 
the  alarm  by  fire  and  smoke  from  the  mountain-tops  of 
"  an  enemy  across  the  border,"  and  the  king  of  Granada 
had  sallied  forth  with  a  great  force  to  the  encounter. 

The  crusaders,  nearly  taken  by  surprise,  flew  to  arms 
and  prepared  for  battle.  The  grand  master  ordered  his 
three  hundred  horsemen  to  dismount  and  fight  on  foot  in 
support  of  the  infantry.  The  Moors,  however,  charged 
so  suddenly  that  they  separated  the  cavaliers  from  the 
foot-soldiers  and  prevented  their  uniting.  The  grand 
master  gave  the  old  war-cry,  "  Santiago !  Santiago !  and 
close  Spain!"  He  and  his  knights  breasted  the  fury  of 
the  battle,  but  were  surrounded  by  a  countless  host  and 
assailed  with  arrows,  stones,  darts,  and  arquebuses.  Still 
they  fought  fearlessly,  and  made  prodigious  slaughter. 
The  hermit  mingled  in  the  hottest  of  the  fight.  In  one 
hand  he  bore  the  cross,  in  the  other  he  brandished  a 
sword,  with  which  he  dealt  about  him  like  a  maniac, 
slaying  several  of  the  enemy,  until  he  sank  to  the  ground 
covered  with  wounds.  The  grand  master  saw  him  fall, 
and  saw  too  late  the  fallacy  of  his  prophecies.  Despair, 
however,  only  made  him  fight  the  more  fiercely,  until  he 


458  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

also  fell  overpowered  by  numbers.  His  devoted  cava- 
liers emulated  liis  holy  zeal.  Not  one  turned  his  back 
nor  asked  for  mercy;  all  fought  until  they  fell.  As  to 
the  foot-soldiers,  many  were  killed,  many  taken  pris- 
oners ;  the  residue  escaped  to  Alcala  la  Real.  When  the 
Moors  came  to  strip  the  slain,  the  wounds  of  the  cava- 
liers were  all  found  to  be  in  front. 

Such  was  the  catastrophe  of  this  fanatic  enterprise. 
The  Moors  vaunted  it  as  a  decisive  proof  of  the  superior 
sanctity  of  their  faith,  and  extolled  their  king  to  the  skies 
when  he  returned  in  triumph  to  Granada. 

As  it  was  satisfactorily  shown  that  this  crusade  was 
the  enterprise  of  an  individual,  and  contrary  to  the  ex- 
press orders  of  the  king  of  Castile,  the  peace  of  the  two 
kingdoms  was  not  interrupted.  Nay,  the  Moors  evinced 
a  feeling  of  respect  for  the  valor  of  the  unfortunate  grand 
master,  and  readily  gave  up  his  body  to  Don  Alonzo  Fer- 
nandez de  Cordova,  who  came  from  Alcala  to  seek  it. 
The  Christians  of  the  frontier  united  in  paying  the  last 
sad  honors  to  his  memory.  His  body  was  placed  upon  a 
bier,  covered  with  the  pennon  of  the  order  of  Alcantara ; 
and  the  broken  cross,  the  emblem  of  his  confident  hopes 
and  fatal  disappointment,  was  borne  before  it.  In  this 
way  his  remains  were  carried  back  in  funeral  procession, 
through  the  mountain  tract  which  he  had  traversed  so 
resolutely.  Wherever  it  passed,  through  a  town  or  vil- 
lage, the  populace  followed,  with  tears  and  lamentations, 
bewailing  him  as  a  valiant  knight  and  a  martyr  to  the 


THE  EPITAPH.  459 

faith.  His  body  was  interred  in  the  chapel  of  the  con- 
vent of  Santa  Maria  de  Almocovara,  and  on  his  sepulchre 
piay  still  be  seen  engraven  in  quaint  and  antique  Spanish 
the  following  testimonial  to  his  bravery : — 

HEEE  LIES   ONE  WHOSE  HEAET  NEVER  KNEW  FEAR. 
(Aqui  yaz  aqiiel  que  par  neua  cosa  nimca  eve  pavor  en  seu  corazon.)  * 

*  Torres.  Hist.  Ord.  Alcantara.     Cron.  Enrique  III.  per  Pedro  Lopez  de 
Ayala. 


SPANISH    EOMANCE. 

N  the  latter  part  of  my  sojourn  in  the  Alham- 
bra,  I  made  frequent  descents  into  the  Jesuit's 
Library  of  the  University  ;  and  relished  more 
and  more  the  old  Spanish  chronicles,  which  I  found 
there  bound  in  parchment.  I  delight  in  those  quaint 
histories  which  treat  of  the  times  when  the  Moslems 
maintained  a  foothold  in  the  Peninsula.  With  all  their 
bigotry  and  occasional  intolerance,  they  are  full  of  noble 
acts  and  generous  sentiments,  and  have  a  high,  spicy, 
oriental  flavor,  not  to  be  found  in  other  records  of  the 
times,  which  were  merely  European.  In  fact,  Spain, 
even  at  the  present  day,  is  a  country  apart ;  severed  in 
history,  habits,  manners,  and  modes  of  thinking,  from  all 
the  rest  of  Europe.  It  is  a  romantic  country;  but  its 
romance  has  none  of  the  sentimentality  of  modern  Eu- 
ropean romance ;  it  is  chiefly  derived  from  the  brilliant 
regions  of  the  East,  and  from  the  high-minded  school  of 
Saracenic  chivalry. 

The  Arab  invasion  and  conquest  brought  a  higher 
civilization,  and  a  nobler  style  of  thinking,  into  Gothic 
Spain.    The  Arabs  were  a  quick-witted,  sagacious,  proud- 

460 


BIVAL  COURTESIES.  461 

spirited,  and  poetical  people,  and  were  imbued  witli  ori- 
ental science  and  literature.  Whereyer  they  established 
a  seat  of  power,  it  became  a  rallying-place  for  the  learned 
and  ingenious  ;  and  they  softened  and  refined  the  people 
whom  they  conquered.  By  degrees,  occupancy  seemed 
to  give  them  an  hereditary  right  to  their  foothold  in 
the  land;  they  ceased  to  be  looked  upon  as  invaders, 
and  were  regarded  as  rival  neighbors.  The  Peninsula, 
broken  up  into  a  variety  of  states,  both  Christian  and 
Moslem,  became,  for  centuries,  a  great  campaigning- 
ground,  where  the  art  of  war  seemed  to  be  the  principal 
business  of  man,  and  was  carried  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
romantic  chivalry.  The  original  ground  of  hostility,  a 
difference  of  faith,  gradually  lost  its  rancor.  Neighbor- 
ing states,  of  opposite  creeds,  were  occasionally  linked 
together  in  alliances,  offensive  and  defensive ;  so  that  the 
cross  and  crescent  were  to  be  seen  side  by  side,  fighting 
against  some  common  enemy.  In  times  of  peace,  too, 
the  noble  youth  of  either  faith  resorted  to  the  same 
<;ities,  Christian  or  Moslem,  to  school  themselves  in  mili- 
tary science.  Even  in  the  temporary  truces  of  sangui- 
nary wars,  the  warriors  who  had  recently  striven  together 
in  the  deadly  conflicts  of  the  field,  laid  aside  their  ani- 
mosity, met  at  tournaments,  jousts,  and  other  military 
festivities,  and  exchanged  the  courtesies  of  gentle  and 
generous  spirits.  Thus  the  opposite  races  became  fre- 
quently mingled  together  in  peaceful  intercourse,  or  if 
any  rivalry  took  place,  it  was  in  those  high  courtesies 


462  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  nobler  acts,  which  bespeak  the  accomplished  cayalier. 
Warriors,  of  opposite  creeds,  became  ambitions  of  tran- 
scending each  other  in  magnanimity  as  well  as  valor. 
Indeed,  the  chivalric  virtues  were  refined  upon  to  a  de- 
gree sometimes  fastidious  and  constrained,  but  at  other 
times  inexpressibly  noble  and  affecting.  The  annals  of 
the  times  teem  with  illustrious  instances  of  high-wrought 
courtesy,  romantic  generosity,  lofty  disinterestedness, 
and  punctilious  honor,  that  warm  the  very  soul  to  read 
them.  These  have  furnished  themes  for  national  plays 
and  poems,  or  have  been  celebrated  in  those  all-pervad- 
ing ballads,  which  are  as  the  life-breath  of  the  people, 
and  thus  have  continued  to  exercise  an  influence  on  the 
national  character,  which  centuries  of  vicissitude  and  de- 
cline have  not  been  able  to  destroy;  so  that,  with  all 
their  faults,  and  they  are  many,  the  Spaniards,  even  at 
the  present  day,  are,  on  many  points,  the  most  high- 
minded  and  proud-spirited  people  of  Europe.  It  is  true, 
the  romance  of  feeling  derived  from  the  sources  I  have 
mentioned,  has,  like  all  other  romance,  its  affectations 
and  extremes.  It  renders  the  Spaniard  at  times  pompous 
and  grandiloquent;  prone  to  carry  the  "pundonor,"  or 
point  of  honor,  beyond  the  bounds  of  sober  sense  and 
sound  morality  ;  disposed,  in  the  midst  of  poverty,  to 
affect  the  "grande  caballero,"  and  to  look  down  with  sov- 
ereign disdain  upon  "  arts  mechanical,"  and  all  the  gain- 
ful pursuits  of  plebeian  life  ;  but  this  very  inflation  of 
spirit,  while  it  fills  his  brain  with  vapors,  lifts  him  above 


SPANISH  ROMANCE.  463 

a  thousand  meannesses  ;  and  tL-ongli  it  often  keeps  him 
in  indigence,  ever  protects  him  from  vulgarity. 

In  the  present  day,  when  popular  literature  is  running 
into  the  low  levels  of  life,  and  luxuriating  on  the  vices 
and  follies  of  mankind ;  and  when  the  universal  pursuit 
of  gain  is  trampling  down  the  early  growth  of  poetic 
feeling,  and  wearing  out  the  verdure  of  the  soul,  I  ques- 
tion whether  it  would  not  be  of  service  for  the  reader 
occasionally  to  turn  to  these  records  of  prouder  times 
and  loftier  modes  of  thinking;  and  to  steep  himself  to 
the  very  lips  in  old  Spanish  romance. 

"With  these  preliminary  suggestions,  the  fruit  of  a 
morning's  reading  and  rumination  in  the  old  Jesuit's 
Library  of  the  University,  I  will  give  him  a  legend  in 
point,  drawn  forth  from  one  of  the  venerable  chronicles 
alluded  to. 


LEGEND  OF  DON  MUNIO   SANCHO  DE 
HINOJOSA. 

N  the  cloisters  of  tlie  ancient  Benedictine  con- 
vent of  San  Domingo,  at  Silos,  in  Castile,  are 
the  mouldering  yet  magnificent  monuments  of 
the  once  powerful  and  chivalrous  family  of  Hinojosa. 
Among  these  reclines  the  marble  figure  of  a  knight,  in 
complete  armor,  with  the  hands  pressed  together,  as  if  in 
prayer.  On  one  side  of  his  tomb  is  sculptured  in  relief 
a  band  of  Christian  cavaliers,  capturing  a  cavalcade  of 
male  and  female  Moors ;  on  the  other  side,  the  same 
cavaliers  are  represented  kneeling  before  an  altar.  The 
tomb,  like  most  of  the  neighboring  monuments,  is  almost 
in  ruins,  and  the  sculpture  is  nearly  unintelligible,  ex- 
cepting to  the  keen  eye  of  the  antiquary.  The  story 
connected  with  the  sepulchre,  however,  is  still  preserved 
in  the  old  Spanish  chronicles,  and  is  to  the  following 
purport. 

In  old  times,  several  hundred  years  ago,  there  was  a 
noble  Castilian  cavalier,  named  Don  Munio  Sancho  de 
Hinojosa,  lord  of  a  border  castle,  which  had  stood  the 


A  M00BI8H  CAVALCADE.   -  465 

brunt  of  many  a  Moorish  foray.  He  liad  seventy  horse- 
men as  his  household  troops,  all  of  the  ancient  Castilian 
proof ;  stark  warriors,  hard  riders,  and  men  of  iron ;  with 
these  he  scoured  the  Moorish  lands,  and  made  his  name 
terrible  throughout  the  borders.  His  castle-hall  was 
covered  with  banners,  cimeters,  and  Moslem  helms,  the 
trophies  of  his  prowess.  Don  Munio  was,  moreover,  a 
keen  huntsman;  and  rejoiced  in  hounds  of  all  kinds, 
steeds  for  the  chase,  and  hawks  for  the  towering  sport  of 
falconry.  When  not  engaged  in  warfare  his  delight  was 
to  beat  up  the  neighboring  forests ;  and  scarcely  ever  did 
he  ride  forth  without  hound  and  horn,  a  boar-spear  in 
his  hand,  or  a  hawk  upon  his  fist,  and  an  attendant  train 
of  huntsmen. 

His  wife,  Dona  Maria  Palacin,  was  of  a  gentle  and 
timid  nature,  little  fitted  to  be  the  spouse  of  so  hardy 
and  adventurous  a  knight ;  and  many  a  tear  did  the  poor 
lady  shed,  when  he  sallied  forth  upon  his  daring  enter- 
prises, and  many  a  prayer  did  she  offer  up  for  his  safety. 

As  this  doughty  cavalier  was  one  day  hunting,  he 
stationed  himself  in  a  thicket,  on  the  borders  of  a  green 
glade  of  the  forest,  and  dispersed  his  followers  to  rouse 
the  game,  and  drive  it  toward  his  stand.  He  had  not 
been  here  long,  when  a  cavalcade  of  Moors,  of  both 
sexes,  came  prankling  over  the  forest-lawn.  They  were 
unarmed,  and  magnificently  dressed  in  robes  of  tissue 
and  embroidery,  rich  shawls  of  India,  bracelets  and  ank- 
lets of  gold,  and  jewels  that  sparkled  in  the  sun. 
30 


4:66  '  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

At  the  head  of  this  gay  cavalcade  rode  a  youthful 
cavalier,  superior  to  the  rest  in  dignity  and  loftiness  of 
demeanor,  and  in  splendor  of  attire :  beside  him  was  a 
damsel,  whose  veil,  blown  aside  by  the  breeze,  displayed 
a  face  of  surpassing  beauty,  and  eyes  cast  down  in 
maiden  modesty,  yet  beaming  with  tenderness  and  joy. 

Don  Munio  thanked  his  stars  for  sending  him  such  a 
prize,  and  exulted  at  the  thought  of  bearing  home  to 
his  wife  the  glittering  spoils  of  these  infidels.  Putting 
his  hunting-horn  to  his  lips,  he  gave  a  blast  that  rung 
through  the  forest.  His  huntsmen  came  running  from 
all  quarters,  and  the  astonished  Moors  were  surrounded 
and  made  captives. 

The  beautiful  Moor  wrung  her  hands  in  despair,  and 
her  female  attendants  uttered  the  most  piercing  cries. 
The  young  Moorish  cavalier  alone  retained  self-posses- 
sion. He  inquired  the  name  of  the  Christian  knight  who 
commanded  this  troop  of  horsemen.  When  told  that  it 
was  Don  Munio  Sancho  de  Hinojosa,  his  countenance 
lighted  up.  Approaching  that  cavalier,  and  kissing  his 
hand,  "  Don  Munio  Sancho,"  said  he,  "  I  have  heard  of 
your  fame  as  a  true  and  valiant  knight,  terrible  in  arms, 
but  schooled  in  the  noble  virtues  of  chivalry.  Such  do 
I  trust  to  find  you.  In  me  you  behold  Abadil,  son  of 
a  Moorish  alcayde.  I  am  on  the  way  to  celebrate  my 
nuptials  with  this  lady ;  chance  has  thrown  us  in  your 
power,  but  I  confide  in  your  magnanimity.  Take  all  our 
treasure   and  jewels ;   demand  what  ransom  you  think 


SPANISH  GOUBTEST.  46T 

proper  for  our  persons,  but  suffer  us  not  to  be  insulted 
nor  dishonored." 

When  the  good  knight  heard  this  appeal,  and  beheld 
the  beauty  of  the  youthful  pair,  his  heart  was  touched 
with  tenderness  and  courtesy.  "  God  forbid,"  said  he, 
"  that  I  should  disturb  such  happy  nuptials.  My  pris- 
oners in  troth  shall  ye  be,  for  fifteen  days,  and  immured 
within  my  castle,  where  I  claim,  as  conqueror,  the  right 
of  celebrating  your  espousals." 

So  saying,  he  dispatched  one  of  his  fleetest  horse- 
men in  advance,  to  notify  Dona  Maria  Palacin  of  the 
coming  of  this  bridal  party  ;  while  he  and  his  huntsmen 
escorted  the  cavalcade,  not  as  captors,  but  as  a  guard  of 
honor.  As  they  drew  near  to  the  castle,  the  banners 
were  hung  out,  and  the  trumj^ets  sounded  from  the  bat- 
tlements ;  and  on  their  nearer  approach,  the  drawbridge 
was  lowered,  and  Doha  Maria  came  forth  to  meet  them, 
attended  by  her  ladies  and  knights,  her  pages  and  her 
minstrels.  She  took  the  young  bride,  AUifra,  in  her 
arms,  kissed  her  with  the  tenderness  of  a  sister,  and 
conducted  her  into  the  castle.  In  the  meantime,  Don 
Munio  sent  forth  missives  in  every  direction,  and  had 
viands  and  dainties  of  all  kinds  collected  from  the  coun- 
try round ;  and  the  wedding  of  the  Moorish  lovers  was 
celebrated  with  all  possible  state  and  festivity.  For  fif- 
teen days  the  castle  was  given  up  to  joy  and  revelry. 
There  were  tiltings  and  jousts  at  the  ring,  and  bull- 
fights, and  banquets,  and   dances  to  the  sound  of  min- 


468  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

strelsy.  When  the  fifteen  days  were  at  an  end,  he  made 
the  bride  and  bridegroom  magnificent  presents,  and  con- 
ducted them  and  their  attendants  safely  beyond  the  bor- 
ders. Such,  in  old  times,  were  the  courtesy  and  gene- 
rosity of  a  Spanish  cavalier. 

Several  years  after  this  event,  the  king  of  Castile  sum- 
moned his  nobles  to  assist  him  in  a  campaign  against  the 
Moors.  Don  Munio  Sancho  was  among  the  first  to  an- 
swer to  the  call,  with  seventy  horsemen,  all  stanch  and 
well-tried  warriors.  His  wife,  Doha  Maria,  hung  about 
his  neck  "Alas,  my  lord!"  exclaimed  she,  "how  often 
wilt  thou  tempt  thy  fate,  and  when  will  thy  thirst  for 
glory  be  appeased !  " 

"One  battle  more,"  replied  Don  Munio,  "one  battle 
more,  for  the  honor  of  Castile,  and  I  here  make  a  vow, 
that  when  this  is  over,  I  will  lay  by  my  sword,  and  repair 
with  my  cavaliers  in  pilgrimage  to  the  sepulchre  of  our 
Lord  at  Jerusalem."  The  cavaliers  all  joined  with  him 
in  the  vow,  and  Dona  Maria  felt  in  some  degree  soothed 
in  spirit ;  still,  she  saw  with  a  heavy  heart  the  departure 
of  her  husband,  and  watched  his  banner  with  wistful 
eyes,  until  it  disappeared  among  the  trees  of  the  forest. 

The  king  of  Castile  led  his  army  to  the  plains  of  Alma- 
nara,  where  they  encountered  the  Moorish  host,  near  to 
Ucles.  The  battle  was  long  and  bloody ;  the  Christians 
repeatedly  wavered  and  were  as  often  rallied  by  the  en- 
ergy of  their  commanders.  Don  Munio  was  covered  with 
wounds,  but  refused  to  leave  the  field.     The  Christians 


THE  MOURNING    VICTOR.  459 

at  length  gave  way,  and  the  king  was  hardly  pressed,  and 
in  danger  of  being  captured. 

Don  Munio  called  upon  his  cavaliers  to  follow  him  to 
the  rescue.  "Now  is  the  time,"  cried  he,  "  to  prove  your 
loyalty.  Fall  to,  like  brave  men !  We  fight  for  the  true 
faith,  and  if  we  lose  our  lives  here,  we  gain  a  better  life 
hereafter." 

Bushing  with  his  men  between  the  king  and  his  pur- 
suers, they  checked  the  latter  in  their  career,  and  gave 
time  for  their  monarch  to  escape ;  but  they  fell  victims  to 
their  loyalty.  They  all  fought  to  the  last  gasp.  Don 
Munio  was  singled  out  by  a  powerful  Moorish  knight,  but 
having  been  wounded  in  the  right  arm,  he  fought  to  dis- 
advantage, and  was  slain.  The  battle  being  over,  the 
Moor  paused  to  possess  himself  of  the  spoils  of  this  re- 
doubtable Christian  warrior.  When  he  unlaced  the  hel- 
met, however,  and  beheld  the  countenance  of  Don  Munio, 
he  gave  a  great  cry  and  smote  his  breast.  "Woe  is 
me  !  "  cried  he,  "  I  have  slain  my  benefactor !  The  flower 
of  knightly  virtue  !  the  most  magnanimous  of  cavaliers  ! " 

While  the  battle  had  been  raging  on  the  plain  of  Sal- 
manara.  Dona  Maria  Palacin  remained  in  her  castle,  a 
prey  to  the  keenest  anxiety.  Her  eyes  were  ever  fixed  on 
the  road  that  led  from  the  country  of  the  Moors,  and 
often  she  asked  the  watchman  of  the  tower,  "What  seest 
thou?" 

One   evening,  at   the   shadowy  hour   of  twilight,  the 


470  TEE  ALHAMBBA 

warden  sounded  his  horn.  "  I  see,"  cried  he,  "  a  nu- 
merous train  winding  up  the  valley.  There  are  mingled 
Moors  and  Christians.  The  banner  of  my  lord  is  in  the 
advance.  Joyful  tidings  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  seneschal ; 
"  my  lord  returns  in  triumph,  and  brings  captives !  " 
Then  the  castle  courts  rang  with  shouts  of  joy ;  and  the 
standard  was  displayed,  and  the  trumpets  were  sounded, 
and  the  draw-bridge  was  lowered,  and  Dona  Maria  went 
forth  with  her  ladies,  and  her  knights,  and  her  pages,  and 
her  minstrels,  to  welcome  her  lord  from  the  wars.  But 
as  the  train  drew  nigh,  she  beheld  a  sumptuous  bier,  cov- 
ered with  black  velvet,  and  on  it  lay  a  warrior,  as  if  tak- 
ing his  repose :  he  lay  in  his  armor,  with  his  helmet  on 
his  head,  and  his  sword  in  his  hand,  as  one  who  had 
never  been  conquered,  and  around  the  bier  were  the  es- 
cutcheons of  the  house  of  Hinojosa. 

A  number  of  Moorish  cavaliers  attended  the  bier,  with 
emblems  of  mourning,  and  with  dejected  countenances ; 
and  their  leader  cast  himself  at  the  feet  of  Dona  Maria, 
and  hid  his  face  in  his  hands.  She  beheld  in  him  the 
gallant  Abadil,  whom  she  had  once  welcomed  with  his 
bride  to  her  castle ;  but  who  now  came  with  the  body  of 
her  lord,  whom,  he  had  unknowingly  slain  in  battle ! 

The  sepulchre  erected  in  the  cloisters  of  the  convent 
of  San  Domingo,  was  achieved  at  the  expense  of  the 
Moor  Abadil,  as  a  feeble  testimony  of  his  grief  for  the 
death  of  the  good  knight  Don  Munio,  and  his  reverence 


THE  PHANTOM  PILGRIMAGE.  47I 

for  his  memory.  The  tender  and  faithful  Dona  Maria 
soon  followed  her  lord  to  the  tomh.  On  one  of  the 
stones  of  a  small  arch,  beside  his  sepulchre,  is  the  fol- 
lowing simple  inscription  :  "  Hicjacet  lilaria  Palacin,  uxor 
Munonis  Sancij  De  Finojosa;'' — Here  lies  Maria  Palacin, 
wife  of  Munio  Sancho  de  Hinojosa. 

The  legend  of  Don  Munio  Sancho  does  not  conclude 
with  his  death.  On  the  same  day  on  which  the  battle 
took  place  on  the  plain  of  Salmanara,  a  chaplain  of  the 
Holy  Temple  at  Jerusalem,  while  standing  at  the  outer 
gate,  beheld  a  train  of  Christian  cavaliers  advancing,  as 
if  in  pilgrimage.  The  chaplain  was  a  native  of  Spain,  and 
as  the  pilgrims  appioached,  he  knew  the  foremost  to  be 
Don  Munio  Sancho  de  Hinojosa,  with  whom  he  had  been 
well  acquainted  in  former  times.  Hastening  to  the  pa- 
triarch, he  told  him  of  the  honorable  rank  of  the  pilgrims 
at  the  gate.  The  patriarch,  therefore,  went  forth  with  a 
grand  procession  of  priests  and  monks,  and  received  the 
pilgrims  with  all  due  honor.  There  were  seventy  cava- 
liers beside  their  leader, — all  stark  and  lofty  warriors. 
They  carried  their  helmets  in  their  hands,  and  their 
faces  were  deadly  pale.  They  greeted  no  one,  nor  looked 
either  to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  but  entered  the  chapel, 
and  kneeling  before  the  sepulchre  of  our  Saviour,  per- 
formed their  orisons  in  silence.  When  they  had  con- 
cluded, they  rose  as  if  to  depart,  and  the  patriarch  and 
his  attendants  advanced  to  speak  to  them,  but  they  were 
no  more  to  be  seen.     Every  one  marvelled  what  could 


472  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

be  the  meaning  of  this  prodigy.  The  patriarch  carefully 
noted  down  the  day,  and  sent  to  Castile  to  learn  tidings 
of  Don  Munio  Sancho  de  Hinojosa.  He  received  for  re- 
ply, that  on  the  very  day  specified,  that  worthy  knight, 
with  seventy  of  his  followers,  had  been  slain  in  battle. 
These,  therefore,  must  have  been  the  blessed  spirits  of 
those  Christian  warriors,  come  to  fulfil  their  vow  of  pil- 
grimage to  the  Holy  Sepulchre  at  Jerusalem.  Such  was 
Castilian  faith  in  the  olden  time,  which  kept  its  word, 
even  beyond  the  grave. 

If  any  one  should  doubt  of  the  miraculous  apparition 
of  these  phantom  knights,  let  him  consult  the  History  of 
the  Kings  of  Castile  and  Leon,  by  the  learned  and  pious 
Fray  Prudencio  de  Sandoval,  bishop  of  Pamplona,  where 
he  will  find  it  recorded  in  the  History  of  King  Don 
Alonzo  YI.,  on  the  hundred  and  second  page.  It  is 
too  precious  a  legend  to  be  lightly  abandoned  to  the 
doubter. 


POETS  AND  POETRY  OF  MOSLEM 
AND  ALUS. 

UEING  the  latter  part  of  my  sojourn  in  the 
Alhambra  I  was  more  than  once  visited  by  the 
Moor  of  Tetuan,  with  whom  I  took  great  pleas- 
ure in  rambling  through  the  halls  and  courts,  and  getting 
him  to  explain  to  me  the  Arabic  inscriptions.  He  en- 
deavored to  do  so  faithfully ;  but,  though  he  succeeded 
in  giving  me  the  thought,  he  despaired  of  imparting 
an  idea  of  the  grace  and  beauty  of  the  language.  The 
aroma  of  the  poetry,  said  he,  is  all  lost  in  translation. 
Enough  was  imparted,  however,  to  increase  the  stock  of 
my  delightful  associations  with  this  extraordinary  pile. 
Perhaps  there  never  was  a  monument  more  characteris- 
tic of  an  age  and  people  than  the  Alhambra ;  a  rugged 
fortress  without,  a  voluptuous  palace  within ;  war  frown- 
ing from  its  battlements  ;  poetry  breathing  throughout 
the  fairy  architecture  of  its  halls.  One  is  irresistibly 
transported  in  imagination  to  those  times  when  Moslem 
Spain  was  a  region  of  light  amid  Christian,  yet  be- 
nighted Europe  ;  externally  a  warrior  power  fighting  for 
existence  ;  internally  a  realm  devoted  to  literature,  sci- 

473 


474  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

ence,  and  the  arts ;  where  philosophy  was  cultivated 
with  passion,  though  wrought  up  into  subtleties  and  re- 
finement ;  and  where  the  luxuries  of  sense  were  tran- 
scended by  those  of  thought  and  imagination. 

Arab  poetry,  we  are  told,  arrived  at  its  highest  splen- 
dor under  the  Ommiades  of  Spain,  who  for  a  long  time 
centred  the  power  and  splendor  of  the  western  Caliphat 
at  Cordova.  Most  of  the  sovereigns  of  that  brilliant  line 
were  themselves  poets.  One  of  the  last  of  them  was 
Mahomed  ben  Abderahman.  He  led  the  life  of  a  syba- 
rite in  the  famous  palace  and  gardens  of  Azahara,  sur- 
rounding himself  with  all  that  could  excite  the  imagina- 
tion and  delight  the  senses.  His  palace  was  the  resort 
of  poets.  His  vizier,  Ibn  Zeydun,  was  called  the  Horace 
of  Moslem  Spain,  from  his  exquisite  verses,  which  were 
recited  with  enthusiasm  even  in  the  saloons  of  the  East- 
ern Caliphs.  The  vizier  became  passionately  enamored 
of  the  princess  Walada,  daughter  of  Mahomed.  She  was 
the  idol  of  her  father's  court,  a  poetess  of  the  highest 
order,  and  renowned  for  beauty  as  well  as  talent.  If  Ibn 
Zeydun  was  the  Horace  of  Moslem  Spain,  she  was  its 
Sappho.  The  princess  became  the  subject  of  the  vizier's 
most  impassioned  verses ;  especially  of  a  famous  risaleh 
or  epistle  addressed  to  her,  which  the  historian  Ash-Sha- 
kandi  declares  has  never  been  equalled  for  tenderness 
and  melancholy.  Whether  the  poet  was  happy  in  his 
love,  the  authors  I  have  consulted  do  not  say ;  but  one 
intimates  that  the  princess  was  discreet  as  she  was  beau- 


ENCOURAGEMENT  OF  LITERATURE.  475 

tiful,  and  caused  many  a  lover  to  sigh  in  vain.  In  fact, 
the  reign  of  love  and  poetry  in  the  delicious  abode  of 
Zahara,  was  soon  brought  to  a  close  by  a  popular  insur- 
rection. Mahomed  with  his  family  took  refuge  in  the 
fortress  of  Ucles,  near  Toledo,  where  he  was  treacher- 
ously poisoned  by  the  Alcayde ;  and  thus  perished  one 
of  the  last  of  the  Ommiades. 

The  downfall  of  that  brilliant  dynasty,  which  had  con- 
centrated everything  at  Cordova,  was  favorable  to  the 
general  literature  of  Morisco  Spain. 

"  After  the  breaking  of  the  necklace  and  the  scattering 
of  its  pearls,"  says  Ash-Shakandi,  "the  kings  of  small 
states  divided  among  themselves  the  patrimony  of  the 
Beni  Ommiah." 

They  vied  with  each  other  in  filling  their  capitals  with 
poets  and  learned  men,  and  rewarded  them  with  bound- 
less prodigality.  Such  were  the  Moorish  kings  of  Seville 
of  the  illustrious  line  of  the  Beni  Abbad,  "  with  whom," 
says  the  same  writer,  "resided  fruit  and  palm-trees 
and  pomegranates  ;  who  became  the  centre  of  eloquence 
in  prose  and  verse  ;  every  day  of  whose  reign  was  a 
solemn  festivity;  whose  history  abounds  in  generous 
actions  and  heroic  deeds,  that  will  last  through  sur- 
rounding ages  and  live  forever  in  the  memory  of  man  !  " 

No  place,  however,  profited  more  in  point  of  civiliza- 
tion and  refinement  by  the  downfall  of  the  Western  Cali- 
phat  than  Granada.  It  succeeded  to  Cordova  in  splen- 
dor, while  it  surpassed  it  in  romantic  beauty  of  situation. 


476  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

The  amenity  of  its  climate,  where  the  ardent  heats  of  a 
southern  summer  were  tempered  by  breezes  from  snow- 
clad  mountains ;  the  voluptuous  repose  of  its  valleys 
and  the  bosky  luxuriance  of  its  groves  and  gardens,  all 
awakened  sensations  of  delight,  and  disposed  the  mind 
to  love  and  poetry.  Hence  the  great  number  of  amatory 
poets  that  flourished  in  Granada.  Hence  those  amorous 
canticles  breathing  of  love  and  war,  and  wreathing  chiv- 
alrous grace  round  the  stern  exercise  of  arms.  Those 
ballads  which  still  form  the  pride  and  delight  of  Spanish 
literature  are  but  the  echoes  of  amatory  and  chivalric 
lays,  which  once  delighted  the  Moslem  courts  of  Anda- 
lus ;  and  in  which  a  modern  historian  of  Granada  pre- 
tends to  find  the  origin  of  the  rima  Castellana  and  the 
type  of  the  "  gay  science  "  of  the  troubadours.^ 

Poetry  was  cultivated  in  Granada  by  both  sexes. 
"Had  Allah,"  says  Ash-Shakandi,  "bestowed  no  other 
boon  on  Granada  than  that  of  making  it  the  birthplace 
of  so  many  poetesses ;  that  alone  would  be  sufficient  for 
its  glory." 

Among  the  most  famous  of  these  was  Hafsah;  re- 
nowned, says  the  old  chronicler,  for  beauty,  talents,  no- 
bility, and  wealth.  We  have  a  mere  relic  of  her  poetry 
in  some  verses,  addressed  to  her  lover,  Ahmed,  recalling 
an  evening  passed  together  in  the  garden  of  Maumal. 

"Allah  has  given  us  a  happy  night,  such  as  he  never 

*  Miguel  Lafuente  Alcantara. 


THE  GABDEN  OF  MAUMAL.  477 

Youclisafes  to  the  wicked  and  tlie  ignoble.  "We  have  be- 
held the  cypresses  of  Maumal  gently  bowing  their  heads 
before  the  mountain  breeze, — the  sweet  perfumed  breeze 
that  smelt  of  gillyflowers ;  the  dove  murmured  her  love 
among  the  trees ;  the  sweet  basil  inclined  its  boughs  to 
the  limpid  brook." 

The  garden  of  Maumal  was  famous  among  the  Moors 
for  its  rivulets,  its  fountains,  its  flowers,  and  above  all, 
its  cypresses.  It  had  its  name  from  a  vizier  of  Abdallah, 
grandson  of  Aben  Habuz,  and  Sultan  of  Granada.  Under 
the  administration  of  this  vizier  many  of  the  noblest  pub- 
lic works  were  executed.  He  constructed  an  aqueduct 
by  which  water  was  brought  from  the  mountains  of  Al- 
facar  to  irrigate  the  hills  and  orchards  north  of  the 
city.  He  planted  a  public  walk  with  cypress-trees,  and 
"made  delicious  gardens  for  the  solace  of  the  melan- 
choly Moors."  "The  name  of  Maumal,"  says  Alcantara, 
"ought  to  be  preserved  in  Granada  in  letters  of  gold." 
Perhaps  it  is  as  well  preserved  by  being  associated  with 
the  garden  he  planted ;  and  by  being  mentioned  in  the 
verses  of  Hafsah.  How  often  does  a  casual  word  from  a 
poet  confer  immortality ! 

Perhaps  the  reader  may  be  curious  to  learn  something 
of  the  story  of  Hafsah  and  her  lover,  thus  connected  with 
one  of  the  beautiful  localities  of  Granada.  The  follow- 
ing are  all  the  particulars  I  have  been  able  to  rescue  out 
of  the  darkness  and  oblivion  which  have  settled  upon  the 
brightest  names  and  geniuses  of  Moslem  Spain. 


478  'J^'HE  ALHAMBRA. 

Ahmed  and  Hafsali  flourished  in  the  sixth  century  of 
the  Hegira;  the  twelfth  of  the  Christian  Era.  Ahmed 
was  the  son  of  the  Alcayde  of  Alcala  la  Eeal.  His  father 
designed  him  for  public  and  military  life,  and  would 
have  made  him  his  lieutenant;  but  the  youth  was  of 
a  poetical  temperament,  and  preferred  a  life  of  lettered 
ease  in  the  delightful  abodes  of  Granada.  Here  he  sur- 
rounded himself  by  objects  of  taste  in  the  arts,  and  by 
the  works  of  the  learned;  he  divided  his  time  between 
study  and  social  enjoyment.  He  was  fond  of  the  sports 
of  the  field,  and  kept  horses,  hawks,  and  hounds.  He 
devoted  himself  to  literature,  became  renowned  for  eru- 
dition, and  his  compositions  in  prose  and  verse  were 
extolled  for  their  beauty,  and  in  the  mouths  of  every  one. 

Of  a  tender,  susceptible  heart,  and  extremely  sensible 
to  female  charms,  he  became  the  devoted  lover  of  Haf- 
sah.  The  passion  was  mutual,  and  for  once  the  course 
of  true  love  appeared  to  run  smooth.  The  lovers  were 
both  young,  equal  in  merit,  fame,  rank,  and  fortune, 
enamored  of  each  other's  genius  as  well  as  person,  and 
inhabiting  a  region  formed  to  be  a  realm  of  love  and 
poetry.  A  poetical  intercourse  was  carried  on  between 
them  that  formed  the  delight  of  Granada.  They  were 
continually  interchanging  verses  and  epistles ;  "  the  poe- 
try of  which,"  says  the  Arabian  writer,  Al  Makkari,  "  was 
like  the  language  of  doves." 

In  the  height  of  their  happiness  a  change  took  place  in 
the  government  of  Granada.     It  was  the  time  when  the 


8IDI  ABU  8 AID.  479 

Almohades,  a  Berber  tribe  of  Mount  Atlas,  had  acquired 
the  control  of  Moslem  Spain,  and  removed  the  seat  of 
government  from  Cordova  to  Morocco.  The  Sultan  Ab- 
delmuman  governed  Spain  through  his  Walls  and  Al- 
caydes,  and  his  son,  Sidi  Abu  Said,  was  made  Wall  of 
Granada.  He  governed  in  his  father's  name  with  royal 
state  and  splendor,  and  with  despotic  sway.  Being  a 
stranger  in  the  country,  and  a  Moor  by  birth,  he  sought 
to  strengthen  himself  by  drawing  round  him  popular 
persons  of  the  Arab  race ;  and  to  this  effect  made  Ahmed, 
who  was  then  in  the  zenith  of  his  fame  and  popularity, 
his  vizier.  Ahmed  would  have  declined  the  post,  but 
the  Wall  was  peremptory.  Its  duties  were  irksome  to 
him,  and  he  spurned  at  its  restraint.  On  a  hawking- 
party,  with  some  of  his  gay  companions,  he  gave  way  to 
his  poetic  vein,  exulting  in  his  breaking  away  from  the 
thraldom  of  a  despotic  master  like  a  hawk  from  the 
jesses  of  the  falconer,  to  follow  the  soaring  impulses  of 
his  soul. 

His  words  were  repeated  to  Sidi  Abu  Said.  "Ahmed," 
said  the  informant,  "  spurns  at  restraint  and  scoffs  at  thy 
authority."  The  poet  was  instantly  dismissed  from  of- 
fice. The  loss  of  an  irksome  post  was  no  grievance  to 
one  of  his  joyous  temperament ;  but  he  soon  discovered 
the  real  cause  of  his  removal.  The  Wall  was  his  rival. 
He  had  seen  and  become  enamored  of  Hafsah.  What 
was  worse,  Hafsah  was  dazzled  with  the  conquest  she 
had  made. 


THE  ALHAMBBA. 

For  a  time  Ahmed  treated  the  matter  with  ridicule ; 
and  appealed  to  the  prejudice  existing  between  the  Arab 
and  Moorish  races.  Sidi  Abu  Said  was  of  a  dark  olive 
complexion.  "How  canst  thou  endui?e  that  black  man?" 
said  he,  scornfully.  "  By  Allah,  for  twenty  dinars  I  can 
buy  thee  a  better  than  he  in  the  slave-market." 

The  scoff  reached  the  ears  of  Sidi  Abu  Said  and  ran- 
kled in  his  heart. 

At  other  times  Ahmed  gave  way  to  grief  and  tender- 
ness, recalling  past  scenes  of  happiness,  reproaching  Haf- 
sah  with  her  inconstancy,  and  warning  her  in  despair- 
ing accents  that  she  would  be  the  cause  of  his  death. 
His  words  were  unheeded.  The  idea  of  having  the  son 
of  the  Sultan  for  a  lover  had  captivated  the  imagination 
of  the  poetess. 

Maddened  by  jealousy  and  despair,  Ahmed  joined  in  a 
conspiracy  against  the  ruling  dynasty.  It  was  discov- 
ered, and  the  conspirators  fled  from  Granada.  Some 
escaped  to  a  castle  on  the  mountains,  Ahmed  took  refuge 
in  Malaga,  where  he  concealed  himself,  intending  to 
embark  for  Valencia.  He  was  discovered,  loaded  with 
chains,  and  thrown  into  a  dungeon,  to  abide  the  decision 
of  Sidi  Abu  Said. 

He  was  visited  in  prison  by  a  nephew,  who  has  left 
on  record  an  account  of  the  interview.  The  youth 
was  moved  to  tears  at  seeing  his  illustrious  relative, 
late  so  prosperous  and  honored,  fettered  like  a  male- 
factor. 


TARDY  REMORSE.  481 

"Why  dost  thou  weej)?"  said  Ahmed.  "Are  these 
tears  shed  for  me  ?  For  me,  who  have  enjoyed  all  that 
the  world  could  give?  Weep  not  for  me.  I  have  had 
my  share  of  happiness ;  banqueted  on  the  daintiest  fare  ; 
quaffed  out  of  crystal  cups ;  slept  on  beds  of  down ; 
been  arrayed  in  the  richest  silks  and  brocades;  ridden 
the  fleetest  steeds ;  enjoyed  the  loves  of  the  fairest 
maidens.  Weep  not  for  me.  My  present  reverse  is  but 
the  inevitable  course  of  fate.  I  have  committed  acts 
which  render  pardon  hopeless.  I  must  await  my  pun- 
ishment." 

His  presentiment  was  correct.  The  vengeance  of  Sidi 
Abu  Said  was  only  to  be  satisfied  by  the  blood  of  his 
rival,  and  the  unfortunate  Ahmed  was  beheaded  at  Mal- 
aga, in  the  month  Jumadi,  in  the  year  559  of  the  Hegira 
(April,  1164).  When  the  news  was  brought  to  the  fic- 
kle-hearted Hafsah,  she  was  struck  with  sorrow  and 
remorse,  and  put  on  mourning;  recalling  his  warning 
words,  and  reproaching  herself  with  being  the  cause  of 
his  death. 

Of  the  after  fortunes  of  Hafsah  I  have  no  further  trace 
than  that  she  died  in  Morocco,  in  1184,  outliving  both 
her  lovers,  for  Sidi  Abu  Said  died  in  Morocco  of  the 
plague  in  1175.  A  memorial  of  his  residence  in  Granada 
remained  in  a  palace  which  he  built  on  the  banks  of  the 
XeniL  The  garden  of  Maumal,  the  scene  of  the  early 
lives  of  Ahmed  and  Hafsah,  is  no  longer  in  existence. 
31 


482  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Its  site  may  be  found  by  the  antiquary  in  poetical  re- 
search."^ 

*  The  authorities  for  the  foregoing  :  Alcantara,  Hist.  Granada  ;  Al 
Makkari,  Hist.  Mohamad ;  Dynasties  in  Spain,  B.  ii.  c.  3  ;  Notes  and  il- 
lustrations of  the  same,  by  Gayangos,  Vol.  I.  p.  440  ;  Ibnu  Al  Kahttib, 
Biograph.  Die,  cited  by  Gayangos  ;  Conde  Hist.  Dom.  Arab, 


AN  EXPEDITION  IN  QUEST  OF  A 
DIPLOMA. 


NE  of  the  most  important  occurrences  in  the 
domestic  life  of  the  Alhambra,  was  the  depart- 
ure of  Manuel,  the  nephew  of  Doiia  Anfconia, 
for  Malaga,  to  stand  examination  as  a  physician.  I  have 
already  informed  the  reader  that,  on  his  success  in  ob- 
taining a  degree  depended  in  a  great  measure  the  union 
and  future  fortunes  of  himself  and  his  cousin  Dolores ; 
at  least  so  I  was  privately  informed  by  Mateo  Ximenes, 
and  various  circumstances  concurred  to  corroborate  his 
information.  Their  courtship,  however,  was  carried  on 
very  quietly  and  discreetly,  and  I  scarce  think  I  should 
have  discovered  it,  if  I  had  not  been  put  on  the  alert  by 
the  all-observant  Mateo. 

In  the  present  instance,  Dolores  was  less  on  the  re- 
serve, and  had  busied  herself  for  several  days  in  fitting 
out  honest  Manuel  for  his  expedition.  All  his  clothes 
had  been  arranged  and  packed  in  the  neatest  order,  and 
above  all  she  had  worked  a  smart  Andalusian  travelling- 
jacket  for  him  with  her  own  hands.  On  the  morning 
appointed  for  his  departure,  a  stout  mule  on  which  he 

483 


484  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

was  to  perform  the  journey  was  paraded  at  the  portal  of 
the  Alhambra,  and  Tio  Polo  (Uncle  Polo),  an  old  invalid 
soldier,  attended  to  caparison  him.  This  veteran  was 
one  of  the  curiosities  of  the  placeo  He  had  a  leathern 
lantern  visage,  tanned  in  the  tropics,  a  long  Roman  nose, 
and  a  black  beetle  eye.  I  had  frequently  observed  him 
reading,  apparently  with  intense  interest,  an  old  parch- 
ment-bound volume  ;  sometimes  he  would  be  surrounded 
by  a  group  of  his  brother  invalids  ;  some  seated  on  the 
parapets,  some  lying  on  the  grass,  listening  with  fixed 
attention,  while  he  read  slowly  and  deliberately  out  of 
his  favorite  work,  sometimes  pausing  to  explain  or  ex- 
pound for  the  benefit  of  his  less  enlightened  auditors. 

I  took  occasion  one  day  to  inform  myself  of  this  an- 
cient book,  which  appeared  to  be  his  vade  mecum,  and 
found  it  to  be  an  odd  volume  of  the  works  of  Padre 
Benito  Geronymo  Feyjoo ;  and  that  one  which  treats 
about  the  Magic  of  Spain,  the  mysterious  caves  of  Sala- 
manca and  Toledo,  the  Purgatory  of  San  Patricio  (St. 
Patrick),  and  other  mystic  subjects  of  the  kind.  From 
that  time  I  kept  my  eye  upon  the  veteran. 

On  the  present  occasion  I  amused  myself  with  watch- 
ing him  fit  out  the  steed  of  Manuel  with  all  the  forecast 
of  an  old  campaigner.  First  he  took  a  considerable  time 
in  adjusting  to  the  back  of  the  mule  a  cumbrous  saddle 
of  antique  fashion,  high  in  front  and  behind,  with  Moor- 
ish stirrups  like  shovels  ;  the  whole  looking  like  a  relic 
of  the  old  armory  of  the  Alhambra  ;  then  a  fleecy  sheep- 


FAMILY  TROUBLES.  485 

skin  was  accommodated  to  the  deep  seat  of  tlie  saddle ; 
tlien  a  maleta,  neatly  packed  by  the  hand  of  Dolores,  was 
buckled  behind ;  then  a  manta  was  thrown  over  it  to 
serve  either  as  cloak  or  couch ;  then  the  all-important 
alforjas,  carefully  stocked  with  provant,  were  hung  in 
front,  together  with  the  bota,  or  leathern  bottle  for 
either  wine  or  water,  and  lastly  the  trabucho,  which  the 
old  soldier  slung  behind,  giving  it  his  benediction.  It 
was  like  the  fitting  out  in  old  times  of  a  Moorish  cavalier 
for  a  foray  or  a  joust  in  the  Vivarrambla.  A  number  of 
the  lazzaroni  of  the  fortress  had  gathered  round,  with 
some  of  the  invalids,  all  looking  on,  all  offering  their  aid, 
and  all  giving  advice,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  Tio  Polo. 

When  all  was  ready  Manuel  took  leave  of  the  house- 
hold; Tio  Polo  held  his  stirrup  while  he  mounted,  ad- 
justed the  girths  and  saddle,  and  cheered  him  off  in 
military  style;  then  turning  to  Dolores,  who  stood  ad- 
miring her  cavalier  as  he  trotted  off,  "Ah  Dolorocita," 
exclaimed  he,  with  a  nod  and  a  wink,  "es  muy  guapo 
Manuelito  in  su  Xaqueta,'^  (Ah  Dolores,  Manuel  is  mighty 
fine  in  his  jacket.)  The  little  damsel  blushed  and  laugh- 
ed, and  ran  into  the  house. 

Days  elapsed  without  tidings  from  Manuel,  though  he 
had  promised  to  write.  The  heart  of  Dolores  began  to 
misgive  her.  Had  anything  happened  to  him  on  the 
road?  Had  he  failed  in  his  examination?  A  circum- 
stance occurred  in  her  little  household  to  add  to  her 
uneasiness   and  fill  her   mind  with  foreboding.     It  was 


486  TEE  ALHAMBBA. 

almost  equal  to  the  escapado  of  her  pigeon.  Her  tor- 
toise-sliell  cat  eloped  at  night  and  clambered  to  the  tiled 
roof  of  the  Alhambra.  In  the  dead  of  the  night  there 
was  a  fearful  caterwauling;  some  grimalkin  was  uncivil 
to  her ;  then  there  was  a  scramble ;  then  a  clapper-claw- 
ing; then  both  parties  rolled  off  the  roof  and  tumbled 
from  a  great  height  among  the  trees  on  the  hill-side. 
Nothing  more  was  seen  or  heard  of  the  fugitive,  and  poor 
Dolores  considered  it  but  the  prelude  to  greater  calam- 
ities. 

At  the  end  of  ten  days,  however,  Manuel  returned  in 
triumph,  duly  authorized  to  kill  or  cure  ;  and  all  Dolores' 
cares  were  over.  There  was  a  general  gathering  in  the 
evening  of  the  humble  friends  and  hangers-on  of  Dame 
Antonia  to  congratulate  her  and  to  pay  their  respects  to 
d  Seftor  Medico,  who,  peradventure,  at  some  future  day, 
might  have  all  their  lives  in  his  hands.  One  of  the  most 
important  of  these  guests  was  old  Tio  Polo ;  and  I  gladly 
seized  the  occasion  to  prosecute  my  acquaintance  with 
him.  "Oh  Senor,"  cried  Dolores,  "you  who  are  so 
eager  to  learn  all  the  old  histories  of  the  Alhambra,  Tio 
Polo  knows  more  about  them  than  any  one  else  about 
the  place.  More  than  Mateo  Ximenes  and  his  whole 
family  put  together.  Vaya — Vaya — Tio  Polo,  tell  the 
Sehor  all  those  stories  you  told  us  one  evening,  about 
enchanted  Moors,  and  the  haunted  bridge  over  the  Darro, 
and  the  old  stone  pomegranates,  that  have  been  there 
since  the  days  of  King  Chico." 


TIO  POLO.  487 

It  was  some  time  before  the  old  invalid  could  be 
brought  into  a  narrative  vein.  He  shook  his  head — they 
were  all  idle  tales ;  not  worthy  of  being  told  to  a  caval- 
ier o  like  myself.  It  was  only  by  telling  some  stories  of 
the  kind  myself  I  at  last  got  him  to  open  his  budget. 
It  was  a  whimsical  farrago,  partly  made  up  of  what  he 
had  heard  in  the  Alhambra,  partly  of  what  he  had  read 
in  Padre  Feyjoo.  I  will  endeavor  to  give  the  reader  the 
substance  of  it,  but  I  will  not  promise  to  give  it  in  the 
very  words  of  Tio  Polo. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ENCHANTED 
SOLDIEK. 


.^^^YEEYBODY  has  heard  of  the  Cave  of  St.  Cy- 

^''^  ^       '    prian  at  Salamanca,  where  in  old  times  judicial 

^j..^^!  astronomy,  necromancy,  chiromancy,  and  other 


dark  and  damnable  arts  were  secretly  taught  by  an  an- 
cient sacristan ;  or,  as  some  will  have  it,  by  the  devil 
himself,  in  that  disguise.  The  cave  has  long  been  shut 
up  and  the  very  site  of  it  forgotten;  though,  according 
to  tradition,  the  entrance  was  somewhere  about  where 
the  stone  cross  stands  in  the  small  square  of  the  semi- 
nary of  Carvajal ;  and  this  tradition  appears  in  some  de- 
gree corroborated  by  the  circumstances  of  the  following 
story. 

There  was  at  one  time  a  student  of  Salamanca,  Don 
Vicente  by  name,  of  that  merry  but  mendicant  class,  who 
set  out  on  the  road  to  learning  without  a  penny  in  pouch 
for  the  journey,  and  who,  during  college  vacations,  beg 
from  town  to  town  and  village  to  village  to  raise  funds  to 
enable  them  to  pursue  their  studies  through  the  ensuing 
term.  He  was  now  about  to  set  forth  on  his  wander- 
ings; and  being  somewhat  musical,  slung  on  his  back  a 


A  MENDICAWT  STUDENT.  439 

guitar  with  which  to  amuse  the  villagers,  and  pay  for  a 
meal  or  a  night's  lodging. 

As  he  passed  by  the  stone  cross  in  the  seminary 
square,  he  pulled  off  his  hat  and  made  a  short  invocation 
to  St.  Cyprian,  for  good  luck;  when  casting  his  eyes 
upon  the  earth,  he  perceived  something  glitter  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross.  On  picking  it  up,  it  proved  to  be  a 
seal-ring  of  mixed  metal,  in  which  gold  and  silver  ap- 
peared to  be  blended.  The  seal  bore  as  a  device  two 
triangles  crossing  each  other,  so  as  to  form  a  star.  This 
device  is  said  to  be  a  cabalistic  sign,  invented  by  king 
Solomon  the  Wise,  and  of  mighty  power  in  all  cases  of  en- 
chantment ;  but  the  honest  student,  being  neither  sage  nor 
conjurer,  knew  nothing  of  the  matter.  He  took  the  ring 
as  a  present  from  St.  Cyprian  in  reward  of  his  prayer ; 
slipped  it  on  his  finger,  made  a  bow  to  the  cross,  and 
strumming  his  guitar,  set  off  merrily  on  his  wandering. 

The  life  of  a  mendicant  student  in  Spain  is  not  the  most 
miserable  in  the  world ;  especially  if  he  has  any  talent  at 
making  himself  agreeable.  He  rambles  at  large  from 
village  to  village,  and  city  to  city,  wherever  curiosity  or 
caprice  may  conduct  him.  The  country  curates,  who,  for 
the  most  part,  have  been  mendicant  students  in  their 
time,  give  him  shelter  for  the  night,  and  a  comfortable 
meal,  and  often  enrich  him  with  several  quartos,  or  half- 
pence in  the  morning.  As  he  presents  himself  from  door 
to  door  in  the  streets  of  the  cities,  he  meets  with  no 
harsh  rebuff,  no  chilling  contempt,  for  there  is  no  dis- 


490  TEE  ALHAMBBA. 

grace  attending  his  mendicity,  many  of  the  most  learned 
men  in  Spain  having  commenced  their  career  in  this 
manner ;  but  if,  like  the  student  in  question,  he  is  a  good- 
looking  varlet  and  a  merry  companion ;  and,  above  all,  if 
he  can  play  the  guitar,  he  is  sure  of  a  hearty  welcome 
among  the  peasants,  and  smiles  and  favors  from  their 
wives  and  daughters. 

In  this  way,  then,  did  our  ragged  and  musical  son  of 
learning  make  his  way  over  half  the  kingdom ;  with  the 
fixed  determination  to  visit  the  famous  city  of  Granada 
before  his  return.  Sometimes  he  was  gathered  for  the 
night  into  the  fold  of  some  village  pastor ;  sometimes  he 
was  sheltered  under  the  humble  but  hospitable  roof  of 
the  peasant.  Seated  at  the  cottage- door  with  his  guitar, 
he  delighted  the  simple  folk  with  his  ditties ;  or  striking 
up  a  fandango  or  bolero,  set  the  brown  country  lads  and 
lasses  dancing  in  the  mellow  twilight.  In  the  morning 
he  departed  with  kind  words  from  host  and  hostess,  and 
kind  looks  and,  peradventure,  a  squeeze  of  the  hand  from 
the  daughter. 

At  length  he  arrived  at  the  great  object  of  his  musical 
vagabondizing,  the  far-famed  city  of  Granada,  and  hailed 
with  wonder  and  delight  its  Moorish  towers,  its  lovely 
vega,  and  its  snowy  mountains  glistening  through  a  sum- 
mer atmosphere.  It  is  needless  to  say  with  what  eager 
curiosity  he  entered  its  gates  and  wandered  through  its 
streets,  and  gazed  upon  its  oriental  monuments.  Every 
female  face  peering  through  a  window  or  beaming  from  a 


THE  PADBE.  491 

balcony  was  to  liim  a  Zorayda  or  a  Zelinda,  nor  could  he 
meet  a  stately  dame  on  the  Alameda  but  he  was  ready  to 
fancy  her  a  Moorish  princess,  and  to  spread  his  student's 
robe  beneath  her  feet. 

His  musical  talent,  his  happy  humor,  his  youth  and 
his  good  looks,  won  him  a  universal  welcome  in  spite  of 
his  ragged  robes,  and  for  several  days  he  led  a  gay  life 
in  the  old  Moorish  capital  and  its  environs.  One  of  his 
occasional  haunts  was  the  fountain  of  Avellanos,  in  the 
valley  of  Darro.  It  is  one  of  the  popular  resorts  of  Gra- 
nada, and  has  been  so  since  the  days  of  the  Moors ;  and 
here  the  student  had  an  opportunity  of  pursuing  his 
studies  of  female  beauty ;  a  branch  of  study  to  which  he 
was  a  little  prone. 

Here  he  would  take  his  seat  with  his  guitar,  improvise 
love-ditties  to  admiring  groups  of  majos  and  majas,  or 
prompt  with  his  music  the  ever-ready  dance.  He  was 
thus  engaged  one  evening  when  he  beheld  a  padre  of  the 
church  advancing,  at  whose  approach  every  one  touched 
the  hat.  He  was  evidently  a  man  of  consequence ;  he 
certainly  was  a  mirror  of  good  if  not  of  holy  living ; 
robust  and  rosy-faced,  and  breathing  at  every  pore  with 
the  warmth  of  the  weather  and  the  exercise  of  the  walk. 
As  he  passed  along  he  would  every  now  and  then  draw  a 
maravedi  out  of  his  pocket  and  bestow  it  on  a  beggar 
with  an  air  of  signal  beneficence.  "Ah,  the  blessed  fa- 
ther ! "  would  be  the  cry ;  "  long  life  to  him,  and  may  he 
soon  be  a  bishop ! " 


492  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

To  aid  his  steps  in  ascending  the  hill  he  leaned  gently 
now  and  then  on  the  arm  of  a  handmaid,  evidently  the 
pet-lamb  of  this  kindest  of  pastors.  Ah,  such  a  damsel ! 
Andalus  from  head  to  foot ;  from  the  rose  in  her  hair,  to 
ohe  fairy  shoe  and  lacework  stocking ;  Andalus  in  every 
movement ;  in  every  undulation  of  the  body : — ripe,  melt- 
ing Andalus ! — But  then  so  modest ! — so  shy ! — ever,  with 
downcast  eyes,  listening  to  the  words  of  the  padre ;  or, 
if  by  chance  she  let  flash  a  side  glance,  it  was  suddenly 
checked  and  her  eyes  once  more  cast  to  the  ground. 

The  good  padre  looked  benignantly  on  the  company 
about  the  fountain,  and  took  his  seat  with  some  em- 
phasis on  a  stone  bench,  while  the  handmaid  hastened  to 
bring  him  a  glass  of  sparkling  water.  He  sipped  it  delib- 
erately and  with  a  relish,  tempering  it  with  one  of  those 
spongy  pieces  of  frosted  eggs  and  sugar  so  dear  to  Span- 
ish epicures,  and  on  returning  the  glass  to  the  hand  of 
the  damsel  pinched  her  cheek  with  infinite  loving-kind- 
ness. 

"  Ah,  the  good  pastor ! "  whispered  the  student  to  him- 
self ;  "  what  a  happiness  would  it  be  to  be  gathered  into 
his  fold  with  such  a  pet-lamb  for  a  companion !  " 

But  no  such  good  fare  was  likely  to  befall  him.  In 
vain  he  essayed  those  powers  of  pleasing  which  he  had 
found  so  irresistible  with  country  curates  and  country 
lasses.  Never  had  he  touched  his  guitar  with  such  skill ; 
never  had  he  poured  forth  more  soul-moving  ditties,  but 
he  had  no  longer  a  country  curate  or  country  lass  to  deal 


A  MODEL  PASTOR.  493 

with.  The  worthy  priest  evidently  did  not  relish  music, 
and  the  modest  damsel  never  raised  her  eyes  from  the 
ground.  They  remained  but  a  short  time  at  the  foun- 
tain ;  the  good  padre  hastened  their  return  to  Granadao 
The  damsel  gave  the  student  one  shy  glance  in  retiring ; 
but  it  plucked  the  heart  out  of  his  bosom ! 

He  inquired  about  them  after  they  had  gone.  Padre 
Tomas  was  one  of  the  saints  of  Granada,  a  model  of  regu- 
larity ;  punctual  in  his  hour  of  rising ;  his  hour  of  taking 
a  paseo  for  an  appetite  ;  his  hours  of  eating ;  his  hour  of 
taking  his  siesta;  his  hour  of  playing  his  game  of  tre- 
sillo,  of  an  evening,  with  some  of  the  dames  of  the  Ca- 
thedral circle  ;  his  hour  of  supping,  and  his  hour  of  re- 
tiring to  rest,  to  gather  fresh  strength  for  another  day's 
round  of  similar  duties.  He  had  an  easy  sleek  mule  for 
his  riding ;  a  matronly  housekeeper  skilled  in  preparing 
tit-bits  for  his  table ;  and  the  pet-lamb,  to  smooth  his 
pillow  at  night  and  bring  him  his  chocolate  in  the  morn- 
ing. 

Adieu  now  to  the  gay,  thoughtless  life  of  the  student ; 
the  side-glance  of  a  bright  eye  had  been  the  undoing  of 
him.  Day  and  night  he  could  not  get  the  image  of  this 
most  modest  damsel  out  of  his  mind.  He  sought  the 
mansion  of  the  padre.  Alas !  it  was  above  the  class  of 
houses  accessible  to  a  strolling  student  like  himself.  The 
worthy  padre  had  no  sympathy  with  him ;  he  had  never 
been  Estudiante  sopista,  obliged  to  sing  for  his  supper. 
He  blockaded  the  house  by  day,  catching  a  glance  of  the 


494  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

damsel  now  and  then  as  she  appeared  at  a  casement ;  but 
these  glances  only  fed  his  flame  without  encouraging  his 
hope.  He  serenaded  her  balcony  at  night,  and  at  one 
time  was  flattered  by  the  appearance  of  something  white  at 
a  window.     Alas,  it  was  only  the  night-cap  of  the  padre. 

Never  was  lover  more  devoted;  never  damsel  more 
shy :  the  poor  student  was  reduced  to  despair.  At  length 
arrived  the  eve  of  St.  John,  when  the  lower  classes 
of  Granada  swarm  into  the  country,  dance  away  the 
afternoon,  and  pass  midsummer's  night  on  the  banks 
of  the  Darro  and  the  Xenil.  Happy  are  they  who  on 
this  eventful  night  can  wash  their  faces  in  those  waters 
just  as  the  cathedral  bell  tells  midnight,  for  at  that  pre- 
cise moment  they  have  a  beautifying  power.  The  stu- 
dent, having  nothing  to  do,  suffered  himself  to  be  carried 
away  by  the  holiday-seeking  throng  until  he  found  him- 
self in  the  narrow  valley  of  the  Darro,  below  the  lofty 
hill  and  ruddy  towers  of  the  Alhambra.  The  dry  bed  of 
the  river ;  the  rocks  which  border  it ;  the  terraced  gar- 
dens which  overhang  it,  were  alive  with  variegated 
groups,  dancing  under  the  vines  and  fig-trees  to  the 
sound  of  the  guitar  and  castanets. 

The  student  remained  for  some  time  in  doleful  dumps, 
leaning  against  one  of  the  huge  misshapen  stone  pome- 
granates which  adorn  the  ends  of  the  little  bridge  over 
the  Darro.  He  cast  a  wistful  glance  upon  the  merry 
scene,  where  every  cavalier  had  his  dame  ;  or,  to  speak 
more  appropriately,  every  Jack  his  Jill;  sighed  at  his 


THE  ANTIQVE  8ENTBT,  495 

own  solitary  state,  a  victim  to  tlie  black  eye  of  the  most 
unapproacliable  of  damsels,  and  repined  at  his  ragged 
garb,  which  seemed  to  shut  the  gate  of  hope  against  him. 

By  degrees  his  attention  was  attracted  to  a  neighbor 
equally  solitary  with  himself.  This  was  a  tall  soldier,  of 
a  stern  aspect  and  grizzled  beard,  who  seemed  posted  as 
a  sentry  at  the  opposite  pomegranate.  His  face  was 
bronzed  by  time;  he  was  arrayed  in  ancient  Spanish 
armor,  with  buckler  and  lance,  and  stood  immovable  as  a 
statue.  What  surprised  the  student  was,  that  though  thus 
strangely  equipped,  he  was  totally  unnoticed  by  the  pass- 
ing throng,  albeit  that  many  almost  brushed  against  him. 

"  This  is  a  city  of  old  time  peculiarities,"  thought  the 
student,  "  and  doubtless  this  is  one  of  them  with  which 
the  inhabitants  are  too  familiar  to  be  surprised."  His 
own  curiosity,  however,  was  awakened,  and  being  of  a 
social  disposition,  he  accosted  the  soldier. 

"A  rare  old  suit  of  armor  that  which  you  wear,  com- 
rade.    May  I  ask  what  corps  you  belong  to  ?  " 

The  soldier  gasped  out  a  reply  from  a  pair  of  jaws 
which  seemed  to  have  rusted  on  their  hinges. 

"The  royal  guard  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella." 

"  Santa  Maria !  Why,  it  is  three  centuries  since  that 
corps  was  in  service." 

"And  for  three  centuries  have  I  been  mounting  guard. 
Now  I  trust  my  tour  of  duty  draws  to  a  close.  Dost 
thou  desire  fortune  ?  " 

The  student  held  up  his  tattered  cloak  in  reply. 


496  THE  ALHAMBUA. 

"I  understand  tliee.  If  tliou  liast  faith  and  courage, 
follow  me,  and  tliy  fortune  is  made." 

"Softly,  comrade,  to  follow  tliee  would  require  small 
courage  in  one  who  lias  nothing  to  lose  but  life  and  an 
old  guitar,  neither  of  much  value ;  but  my  faith  is  of  a 
different  matter,  and  not  to  be  put  in  temptation.  If  it 
be  any  criminal  act  by  which  I  am  to  mend  my  fortune, 
think  not  my  ragged  cloak  will  make  me  undertake  it." 

The  soldier  turned  on  him  a  look  of  high  displeasure. 
"  My  sword,"  said  he,  "  has  never  been  drawn  but  in  the 
cause  of  the  faith  and  the  throne.  I  am  a  Gristiano 
viejo  ;  trust  in  me  and  fear  no  evil." 

The  student  followed  him  wondering.  He  observed 
that  no  one  heeded  their  conversation,  and  that  the  sol- 
dier made  his  way  through  the  various  groups  of  idlers 
unnoticed,  as  if  invisible. 

Crossing  the  bridge,  the  soldier  led  the  way  by  a  nar- 
row and  steep  path  past  a  Moorish  mill  and  aqueduct, 
and  up  the  ravine  which  separates  the  domains  of  the 
Generalife  from  those  of  the  Alhambra.  The  last  ray  of 
the  sun  shone  upon  the  red  battlements  of  the  latter, 
which  beetled  far  above  ;  and  the  convent-bells  were  pro- 
claiming the  festival  of  the  ensuing  day.  The  ravine  was 
overshadowed  by  fig-trees,  vines,  and  myrtles,  and  the 
outer  towers  and  walls  of  the  fortress.  It  was  dark  and 
lonely,  and  the  twilight-loving  bats  began  to  flit  about. 
At  length  the  soldier  halted  at  a  remote  and  ruined 
tower,  apparently  intended  to  guard  a  Moorish  aqueduct. 


SPELL-BOUND.  497 

He  struck  the  foundation  with  the  but-end  of  his  spear. 
A  rumbling  sound  was  heard,  and  the  solid  stones  jawned 
apart,  leaving  an  opening  as  wide  as  a  door. 

"  Enter  in  the  name  of  the  Holy  Trinity,"  said  the  sol- 
dier, "  and  fear  nothing."  The  student's  heart  quaked, 
but  he  made  the  sign  of  the  cross,  muttered  his  Ave 
Maria,  and  followed  his  mysterious  guide  into  a  deep 
vault  cut  out  of  the  solid  rock  under  the  tov/er,  and 
covered  with  Arabic  inscriptions.  The  soldier  pointed 
to  a  stone  seat  hewn  along  one  side  of  the  vault.  "  Be- 
hold," said  he,  "  my  couch  for  three  hundred  years." 
The  bewildered  student  tried  to  force  a  joke.  "  By  the 
blessed  St.  Anthony,"  said  he,  "  but  you  must  have  slept 
soundly,  considering  the  hardness  of  your  couch." 

"  On  the  contrary,  sleep  has  been  a  stranger  to  these 
eyes ;  incessant  watchfulness  has  been  my  doom.  Listen 
to  my  lot.  I  was  one  of  the  royal  guards  of  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella;  but  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  Moors  in 
one  of  their  sorties,  and  confined  a  captive  in  this  tower. 
When  preparations  were  made  to  surrender  the  fortress 
to  the  Christian  sovereigns,  I  was  prevailed  upon  by  an 
Alfaqui,  a  Moorish  priest,  to  aid  him  in  secreting  some  of 
the  treasures  of  Boabdil  in  this  vault.  I  was  justly  pun- 
ished for  my  fault.  The  Alfaqui  was  an  African  necro- 
mancer, and  by  his  infernal  arts  cast  a  spell  upon  me — to 
guard  his  treasures.  Something  must  have  happened  to 
him,  for  he  never  returned,  and  here  have  I  remained 
ever  since,  buried  alive.     Years  and  years  have  rolled 


498  THE  ALHAMBRA, 

away ;  earthquakes  have  shaken  this  hill ;  I  have  heard 
stone  by  stone  of  the  tower  above  tumbling  to  the  ground, 
in  the  natural  operation  of  time ;  but  the  spell-bound  walls 
of  this  vault  set  both  time  and  earthquakes  at  defiance. 

"  Once  every  hundred  years,  on  the  festival  of  St. 
John,  the  enchantment  ceases  to  have  thorough  sway ;  I 
am  permitted  to  go  forth  and  post  myself  upon  the 
bridge  of  the  Darro,  where  you  met  me,  waiting  until 
some  one  shall  arrive  who  may  have  power  to  break  this 
magic  spell.  I  have  hitherto  mounted  guard  there  in 
vain.  I  walk  as  in  a  cloud,  concealed  from  mortal  sight. 
You  are  the  first  to  accost  me  for  now  three  hundred 
years.  I  behold  the  reason.  I  see  on  your  finger  the 
seal-ring  of  Solomon  the  Wise,  which  is  proof  against  all 
enchantment.  With  you  it  remains  to  deliver  me  from 
this  awful  dungeon,  or  to  leave  me  to  keep  guard  here 
for  another  hundred  years." 

The  student  listened  to  this  tale  in  mute  wonderment. 
He  had  heard  many  tales  of  treasures  shut  up  under 
strong  enchantment  in  the  vaults  of  the  Alhambra,  but 
had  treated  them  as  fables.  He  now  felt  the  value  of 
the  seal-ring,  which  had,  in  a  manner,  been  given  to  him 
by  St.  Cyprian.  Still,  though  armed  by  so  potent  a  tal- 
isman, it  was  an  awful  thing  to  find  himself  tete-a-tete 
in  such  a  place  with  an  enchanted  soldier,  who,  accord- 
ing  to  the  laws  of  nature,  ought  to  have  been  quietly  in 
his  grave  for  nearly  three  centuries. 

A  personage  of  this  kind,  however,  was  quite  out  of 


THE  IRON  GOFFER.  499 

the  ordinary  run,  and  not  to  be  trifled  with,  and  he 
assured  him  he  might  rely  upon  his  friendship  and  good 
will  to  do  everything  in  his  power  for  his  deliverance. 

"I  trust  to  a  motive  more  powerful  than  friendship," 
said  the  soldier. 

He  pointed  to  a  ponderous  iron  coffer,  secured  by  locks 
inscribed  with  Arabic  characters.  ''  That  coffer,"  said 
he,  "contains  countless  treasure  in  gold  and  jewels  and 
precious  stones.  Break  the  magic  spell  by  which  I  am 
enthralled,  and  one  half  of  this  treasure  shall  be  thine." 

"But  how  am  I  to  doit?" 

"  The  aid  of  a  Christian  priest  and  a  Christian  maid 
is  necessary.  The  priest  to  exorcise  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness ;  the  damsel  to  touch  this  chest  with  the  seal  of 
Solomon.  This  must  be  done  at  night.  But  have  a  care. 
This  is  solemn  work,  and  not  to  be  effected  by  the  carnal- 
minded.  The  priest  must  be  a  Cristiano  viejo,  a  model 
of  sanctity  ;  and  must  mortify  the  flesh  before  he  comes 
here,  by  a  rigorous  fast  of  four-and-twenty  hours  :  and  as 
to  the  maiden,  she  must  be  above  reproach,  and  proof 
against  temptation.  Linger  not  in  finding  such  aid.  In 
three  days  my  furlough  is  at  an  end;  if  not  delivered 
before  midnight  of  the  third,  I  shall  have  to  mount  guard 
for  another  century." 

"Fear  not,"  said  the  student,  "I  have  in  my  eye  the 
very  priest  and  damsel  you  describe ;  but  how  am  I  to 
regain  admission  to  this  tower?  " 

"The  seal  of  Solomon  Y>dli  open  the  way  for  thee." 


500  ^'^^  ALHAMBRA. 

The  student  issued  forth  from  the  tower  much  more 
gayly  than  he  had  entered.  The  wall  closed  behind  him, 
and  remained  solid  as  before. 

The  next  morning  he  repaired  boldly  to  the  mansion 
of  the  priest,  no  longer  a  poor  strolling  student,  thrum- 
ming his  way  with  a  guitar ;  but  an  ambassador  from  the 
shadowy  world,  with  enchanted  treasures  to  bestow.  No 
particulars  are  told  of  his  negotiation,  excepting  that  the 
zeal  of  the  worthy  priest  was  easily  kindled  at  the  idea 
of  rescuing  an  old  soldier  of  the  faith  and  a  strong- 
box of  King  Chico  from  the  very  clutches  of  Satan ;  and 
then  what  alms  might  be  dispensed,  what  churches  built, 
and  how  many  poor  relatives  enriched  with  the  Moorish 
treasure ! 

As  to  the  immaculate  handmaid,  she  was  ready  to  lend 
her  hand,  which  was  all  that  was  required,  to  the  pious 
work;  and  if  a  shy  glance  now  and  then  might  be  be- 
lieved, the  ambassador  began  to  find  favor  in  her  modest 
eyes. 

The  greatest  difficulty,  however,  was  the  fast  to  which 
the  good  Padre  had  to  subject  himself.  Twice  he  at- 
tempted it,  and  twice  the  flesh  was  too  strong  for  the 
spirit.  It  was  only  on  the  third  day  that  he  was  enabled 
to  withstand  the  temptations  of  the  cupboard ;  but  it  was 
still  a  question  whether  he  would  hold  out  until  the  spell 
was  broken. 

At  a  late  hour  of  the  night  the  party  groped  their  way 
up  the  ravine  by  the  light  of  a  lantern,  and  bearing  a  bas- 


THE  CHASTE  SALUTE.  50I 

ket  with  provisions  for  exorcising  the  demon  of  hunger  so 
soon  as  the  other  demons  should  be  laid  in  the  Ked  Sea. 

The  seal  of  Solomon  opened  their  way  into  the  tower. 
They  found  the  soldier  seated  on  the  enchanted  strong- 
box, awaiting  their  arrival.  The  exorcism  was  per- 
formed in  due  style.  The  damsel  advanced  and  touched 
the  locks  of  the  coffer  with  the  seal  of  Solomon.  The  lid 
flew  open ;  and  such  treasures  of  gold  and  jewels  and 
precious  stones  as  flashed  upon  the  eye  ! 

"  Here's  cut  and  come  again ! "  cried  the  student,  ex- 
ultingiy,  as  he  proceeded  to  cram  his  pockets. 

"  Fairly  and  softly,"  exclaimed  the  soldier.  "  Let  us 
get  the  coffer  out  entire,  and  then  divide." 

They  accordingly  went  to  work  with  might  and  main  ; 
but  it  was  a  difficult  task ;  the  chest  was  enormously 
heavy,  and  had  been  imbedded  there  for  centuries. 
"While  they  were  thus  employed  the  good  dominie  drew 
on  one  side  and  made  a  vigorous  onslaught  on  the  bas- 
ket, by  way  of  exorcising  the  demon  of  hunger  which  was 
raging  in  his  entrails.  In  a  little  while  a  fat  capon  was 
devoured,  and  washed  down  by  a  deep  potation  of  Yal  de 
penas ;  and,  by  way  of  grace  after  meat,  he  gave  a  kind- 
hearted  kiss  to  the  pet-lamb  who  waited  on  him.  It  was 
quietly  done  in  a  corner,  but  the  tell-tale  walls  babbled 
it  forth  as  if  in  triumph.  Never  was  chaste  salute  more 
awful  in  its  effects.  At  the  sound  the  soldier  gave  a 
great  cry  of  despair ;  the  coffer,  which  was  half  raised, 
fell  back  in  its  place  and  was  locked  once  more.     Priest, 


502  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

student,  and  damsel,  found  themselves  outside  of  tlie 
tower,  tlie  wall  of  wliicli  closed  with  a  thundering  jar. 
Alas  !  the  good  Padre  had  broken  his  fast  too  soon  ! 

When  recovered  from  his  surprise,  the  student  would 
have  reentered  the  tower,  but  learnt  to  his  dismay  that 
the  damsel,  in  her  fright,  had  let  fall  the  seal  of  Solo- 
mon ;  it  remained  within  the  vault. 

In  a  word,  the  cathedral  bell  tolled  midnight ;  the 
spell  was  renewed;  the  soldier  was  doomed  to  mount 
guard  for  another  hundred  years,  and  there  he  and  the 
treasure  remain  to  this  day — and  all  because  the  kind- 
hearted  Padre  kissed  his  handmaid.  "Ah  father!  fa- 
ther ! "  said  the  student,  shaking  his  head  ruefully,  as 
they  returned  down  the  ravine,  "  I  fear  there  was  less  of 
the  saint  than  the  sinner  in  that  kiss  !  " 

Thus  ends  the  legend  as  far  as  it  has  been  authenti- 
cated. There  is  a  tradition,  however,  that  the  student 
had  brought  off  treasure  enough  in  his  pocket  to  set  him 
up  in  the  world ;  that  he  prospered  in  his  affairs,  that 
the  worthy  Padre  gave  him  the  pet-lamb  in  marriage,  by 
way  of  amends  for  the  blunder  in  the  vault ;  that  the 
immaculate  damsel  proved  a  pattern  for  wives  as  she  had 
been  for  handmaids,  and  bore  her  husband  a  numerous 
progeny ;  that  the  first  was  a  wonder  ;  it  was  born  seven 
months  after  her  marriage,  and  though  a  seven-months' 
boy,  was  the  sturdiest  of  the  flock.  The  rest  were  all 
born  in  the  ordinary  course  of  time. 


THE  CA  VE  OF  8AN  GTPBIAN.  503 

The  story  of  the  enchanted  soldier  remains  one  of  the 
popular  traditions  of  Granada,  though  told  in  a  variety 
of  ways  ;  the  common  people  affirm  that  he  still  mounts 
guard  on  midsummer  eve,  beside  the  gigantic  stone 
pomegranate  on  the  Bridge  of  the  Darro ;  but  remains  in- 
visible  excepting  to  such  lucky  mortal  as  may  possess 
the  seal  of  Solomon. 

NOTES  TO  THE  ENCHANTED  SOLDIER. 

Among  the  ancient  superstitions  of  Spain,  were  those  of  the  existence 
of  profound  caverns  in  which  the  magic  arts  were  taught,  either  by  the 
devil  in  person,  or  some  sage  devoted  to  his  service.  One  of  the  most 
famous  of  these  caves  was  at  Salamanca.  Don  Francisco  de  Torreblanca 
makes  mention  of  it  in  the  first  book  of  his  work  on  magic,  C.  3,  No.  4. 
The  deviL  was  said  to  play  the  part  of  Oracle  there ;  giving  replies  to 
those  who  repaired  thither  to  propound  fateful  questions,  as  in  the  cele- 
brated cave  of  Trophonius.  Don  Francisco,  though  he  records  this  story, 
does  not  put  faith  in  it :  he  gives  it  however  as  certain,  that  a  Sacristan, 
named  Clement  Potosi,  taught  secretly  the  magic  arts  in  that  cave. 
Padre  Feyjoo,  who  inquired  into  the  matter,  reports  it  as  a  vulgar  belief, 
that  the  devil  himself  taught  those  arts  there ;  admitting  only  seven  dis- 
ciples at  a  time,  one  of  whom,  to  be  determined  by  lot,  was  to  be  devoted 
to  l^im  body  and  soul  forever.  Among  one  of  these  sets  of  students  was 
a  young  man,  son  of  the  Marquis  de  Yillena,  on  whom,  after  having  ac- 
complished his  studies,  the  lot  fell.  He  succeeded,  however,  in  cheating 
the  devil,  leaving  him  his  shadow  instead  of  his  body. 

Don  Juan  de  Dios,  Professor  of  Humanities  in  the  University,  in  the 
early  part  of  the  last  century,  gives  the  following  version  of  the  story, 
extracted,  as  he  says,  from  an  ancient  manuscript.  It  will  be  perceived 
he  has  marred  the  supernatural  part,  of  the  tale,  and  ejected  the  devil 
from  it  altogether. 


504  T3E  ALHAMBBA. 

As  to  the  fable  of  the  Cave  of  San  Cyprian,  says  he,  all  that  we  hare 
been  able  to  verify  is,  that  where  the  stone  cross  stands,  in  the  small 
square  or  place  called  by  the  name  of  the  Seminary  of  Carvajal,  there  was 
the  parochial  church  of  San  Cyprian.  A  descent  of  twenty  steps  led 
down  to  a  subterranean  Sacristy,  spacious  and  vaulted  like  a  cave.  Here 
a  Sacristan  once  taught  magic,  judicial  astrology,  geomaney,  hydro- 
mancy,  pyromancy,  acromancy,  chiromancy,  necromancy,  etc. 

The  extract  goes  on  to  state  that  seven  students  engaged  at  a  time  with 
the  Sacristan,  at  a  fixed  stipend.  Lots  were  east  among  them  which  one 
of  their  number  should  pay  for  the  whole,  with  the  understanding  that 
he  on  whom  the  lot  fell,  if  he  did  not  pay  promptly,  should  be  detained 
in  a  chamber  of  the  Sacristy  until  the  funds  were  forthcoming.  This 
became  thenceforth  the  usual  practice. 

On  one  occasion  the  lot  fell  on  Henry  de  Yillena,  son  of  the  marquis  of 
the  same  name.  He  having  perceived  that  there  had  been  trick  and 
shuffling  in  the  casting  of  the  lot,  and  suspecting  the  Sacristan  to  be  cog- 
nizant thereof,  refused  to  pay.  He  was  forthwith  left  in  limbo.  It  so 
happened,  that  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  Sacristy  was  a  huge  Jar  or  earthen 
reservoir  for  water,  which  was  cracked  and  empty.  In  this  the  youth 
contrived  to  conceal  himself.  The  Sacristan  returned  at  night  with  a 
servant,  bringing  lights  and  a  supper.  Unlocking  the  door,  they  found 
no  one  in  the  vault,  and  a  book  of  magic  lying  open  on  the  table.  They 
retreated  in  dismay,  leaving  the  door  open,  by  which  Villena  made  his 
escape.  The  story  went  about  that  through  magic  he  had  made  himself 
invisible. — The  reader  has  now  both  versions  of  the  story,  and  may  make 
his  choice.  I  will  only  observe  that  the  sages  of  the  Alhambra  incline 
to  the  diabolical  one. 

This  Henry  de  Villena  flourished  in  the  time  of  Juan  II.,  King  of  Cas- 
tile, of  whom  he  was  uncle.  He  became  famous  for  his  knowledge  of  the 
Natural  Sciences ;  and  hence  in  that  ignorant  age  was  stigmatized  as  a 
necromancer.  Fernan  Perez  de  Guzman,  in  his  account  of  distinguished 
men,  gives  him  credit  for  great  learning,  but  says  he  devoted  himself  to 
the  arts  of  divination,  the  interpretation  of  dreams,  of  signs,  and  portents. 


TEE  SEAL  OF  SOLOMON  505 

At  the  death  of  Villena,  his  library  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  King, 
who  was  warned  that  it  contained  books  treating  of  magic,  and  not 
proper  to  be  read.  King  Juan  ordered  that  they  should  be  transported  in 
carts  to  the  residence  of  a  reverend  prelate  to  be  examined.  The  prelate 
was  less  learned  than  devout.  Some  of  the  books  treated  of  mathematics, 
others  of  astronomy,  with  figures  and  diagrams,  and  planetary  signs  ; 
others  of  chemistry  or  alchemy,  with  foreign  and  mystic  words.  All 
these  were  necromancy  in  the  eyes  of  the  pious  prelate,  and  the  books 
were  consigned  to  the  flames,  like  the  library  of  Don  Quixote. 

The  Seal  op  Solomon. — The  device  consists  of  two  equilateral  tri- 
angles, interlaced  so  as  to  form  a  star,  and  surrounded  by  a  circle.  Ac- 
cording to  Arab  tradition,  when  the  Most  High  gave  Solomon  the  choice 
of  blessings,  and  he  chose  wisdom,  there  came  from  heaven  a  ring,  on 
which  this  device  was  engraven.  This  mystic  talisman  was  the  arcanum 
of  his  wisdom,  felicity,  and  grandeur ;  by  this  he  governed  and  prospered. 
In  consequence  of  a  temporary  lapse  from  virtue  he  lost  the  ring  in  the 
sea,  and  was  at  once  reduced  to  the  level  of  ordinary  men.  By  penitence 
and  prayer  he  made  his  peace  with  the  Deity,  was  permitted  to  find  his 
ring  again  in  the  belly  of  a  fish,  and  thus  recovered  his  celestial  gifts. 
That  he  might  not  utterly  lose  them  again,  he  communicated  to  others 
the  secret  of  the  marvellous  ring. 

This  symbolical  seal  we  are  told  was  sacrilegiously  used  by  the  Mo- 
hammedan infidels  ;  and  before  them  by  the  Arabian  idolaters,  and  before 
them  by  the  Hebrews,  for  "diabolical  enterprises  and  abominable  super- 
stitions." Those  who  wish  to  be  more  thoroughly  informed  on  the  sub- 
ject, will  do  well  to  consult  the  learned  Father  Athanasius  Kirker's  trea- 
tise on  the  Cabala  Sarracenica. 

A  word  more  to  the  curious  reader.  There  are  many  persons  in  these 
skeptical  times  who  affect  to  deride  everything  connected  with  the  occult 
sciences,  or  black  art ;  who  have  no  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  conjura- 
tions, incantations,  or  divinations  ;  and  who  stoutly  contend  that  such 


506  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

things  never  had  existence.  To  such  determined  unbelievers  the  testi- 
mony of  past  ages  is  as  nothing  ;  they  require  the  evidence  of  their 
own  senses,  and  deny  that  such  arts  and  practices  have  prevailed  in  days 
of  yore,  simply  because  they  meet  with  no  instance  of  them  in  the  present 
day.  They  cannot  perceive  that,  as  the  world  became  versed  in  the  nat- 
ural sciences,  the  supernatural  became  superfluous  and  fell  into  disuse ; 
and  that  the  hardy  inventions  of  art  superseded  the  mysteries  of  magic. 
Still,  say  the  enlightened  few,  those  mystic  powers  exist,  though  in  a  la- 
tent state,  and  untasked  by  the  ingenuity  of  men.  A  talisman  is  still  a 
talisman,  possessing  all  its  indwelling  and  awful  properties  ;  though  it 
may  have  lain  dormant  for  ages  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  or  in  the  dusty 
cabinet  of  the  antiquary. 

The  signet  of  Solomon  the  Wise,  for  instance,  is  well  known  to  have 
held  potent  control  over  genii,  demons,  and  enchantments  ;  now  who 
will  positively  assert  that  the  same  mystic  signet,  wherever  it  may  exist, 
does  not  at  the  present  moment  possess  the  same  marvellous  virtues 
which  distinguished  it  in  the  olden  time  ?  Let  those  who  doubt  repair  to 
Salamanca,  delve  into  the  cave  of  San  Cyprian,  explore  its  hidden 
secrets,  and  decide.  As  to  those  who  will  not  be  at  the  pains  of  such 
investigation,  let  them  substitute  faith  for  incredulity,  and  receive  with 
honest  credence  the  foregoing  legend« 


THE  AUTHOE'S  FAREWELL  TO  GRANADA, 

Y  serene  and  happy  reign  in  the  Alliambra  was 
suddenly  brought  to  a  close  by  letters  which 
reached  me,  while  indulging  in  oriental  luxury 
in  the  cool  hall  of  the  baths,  summoning  me  away  from 
my  Moslem  elysium,  to  mingle  once  more  in  the  bustle 
and  business  of  the  dusty  world.  How  was  I  to  encoun- 
ter its  toils  and  turmoils,  after  such  a  life  of  repose  and 
reverie  !  How  was  I  to  endure  its  commonplace,  after 
the  poetry  of  the  Alhambra  ! 

But  little  preparation  was  necessary  for  my  departure. 
A  two-wheeled  vehicle,  called  a  tartana,  very  much  re- 
sembling a  covered  cart,  was  to  be  the  travelling  equi- 
page of  a  young  Englishman  and  myself  through  Murcia, 
to  Alicant  and  Valencia,  on  our  way  to  France  ;  and  a 
long-limbed  varlet,  who  had  been  a  contrabandista,  and, 
for  aught  I  knew,  a  robber,  was  to  be  our  guide  and 
guard.  The  preparations  were  soon  made,  but  the  de- 
parture was  the  difficulty.  Day  after  day  was  it  post- 
poned ;  day  after  day  was  spent  in  lingering  about  my 
favorite  haunts,  and  day  after  day  they  appeared  more 

delightful  in  my  eyes. 

507 


508  THE  ALHAMBBA. 

The  social  and  domestic  little  world  also,  in  whicli  I 
had  been  moving,  had  become  singularly  endeared  to 
me  ;  and  the  concern  evinced  by  them  at  my  intended 
departure,  convinced  me  that  my  kind  feelings  were  reci- 
procated. Indeed,  when  at  length  the  day  arrived,  I  did 
not  dare  venture  upon  a  leave-taking  at  the  good  dame 
Antonia's  ;  I  saw  the  soft  heart  of  little  Dolores,  at  least, 
was  brim  full  and  ready  for  an  overflow.  So  I  bade  a 
silent  adieu  to  the  palace  and  its  inmates,  and  descended 
into  the  city  as  if  intending  to  return.  There,  however, 
the  tartana  and  the  guide  were  ready  ;  so,  after  taking  a 
noon-day's  repast  with  my  fellow-traveller  at  the  Posada, 
I  set  out  with  him  on  our  journey. 

Humble  was  the  cortege  and  melancholy  the  departure 
of  El  Eey  Chico  the  Second!  Manuel,  the  nephew  of 
Tia  Antonia,  Mateo,  my  officious  but  now  disconsolate 
squire,  and  two  or  three  old  invalids  of  the  Alhambra 
with  whom  I  had  grown  into  gossiping  companionship, 
had  come  down  to  see  me  off ;  for  it  is  one  of  the  good 
old  customs  of  Spain,  to  sally  forth  several  miles  to  meet 
a  coming  friend,  and  to  accompany  him  as  far  on  his 
departure.  Thus  then  we  set  out,  our  long-legged  guard 
striding  ahead,  with  his  escopeta  on  his  shoulder ;  Man- 
uel and  Mateo  on  each  side  of  the  tartana,  and  the  old 
invalids  behind. 

At  some  little  distance  to  the  north  of  Granada,  the 
road  gradually  ascends  the  hills  ;  here  I  alighted  and 
walked  up  slowly  with  Manuel,  who  took  this  occasion  to 


SORROWFUL  PARTINGS.  509 

confide  to  me  the  secret  of  his  heart  and  of  all  those 
tender  concerns  between  himself  and  Dolores,  with  which 
I  had  been  already  informed  by  the  all -knowing  and 
all-revealing  Mateo  Ximenes.  His  doctor's  diploma  had 
prepared  the  way  for  their  union,  and  nothing  more  was 
wanting  but  the  dispensation  of  the  Pope,  on  account 
of  their  consanguinity.  Then,  if  he  could  get  the  post  of 
Medico  of  the  fortress,  his  happiness  would  be  com- 
plete !  I  congratulated  him  on  the  judgment  and  good 
taste  he  had  shown  in  his  choice  of  a  helpmate  ;  invoked 
all  possible  felicity  on  their  union,  and  trusted  that  the 
abundant  affections  of  the  kind-hearted  little  Dolores 
would  in  time  have  more  stable  objects  to  occupy  them 
than  recreant  cats  and  truant  pigeons. 

It  was  indeed  a  sorrowful  parting  when  I  took  leave  of 
these  good  people  and  saw  them  slowly  descend  the 
hills ;  now  and  then  turning  round  to  wave  me  a  last 
adieu.  Manuel,  it  is  true,  had  cheerful  prospects  to  con- 
sole him,  but  poor  Mateo  seemed  perfectly  cast  down. 
It  was  to  him  a  gidevous  fall  from  the  station  of  prime 
minister  and  historiographer,  to  his  old  brown  cloak  and 
his  starveling  mystery  of  ribbon-weaving  ;  and  the  poor 
devil,  notwithstanding  his  occasional  officiousness,  had, 
somehow  or  other,  acquired  a  stronger  hold  on  my 
sympathies  than  I  was  aware  of.  It  would  have  really 
been  a  consolation  in  parting,  could  I  have  anticipated 
the  good  fortune  in  store  for  him,  and  to  which  I  had 
contributed ;  for  the  importance  I  had  appeared  to  give 


510  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

to  his  tales  and  gossip  and  local  knowledge,  and  tlie  fre- 
quent companionship  in  whicli  I  had  indulged  him  in 
the  course  of  my  strolls,  had  elevated  his  idea  of  his  own 
qualifications  and  opened  a  new  career  to  him ;  and  the 
son  of  the  Alhambra  has  since  become  its  regular  and 
well-paid  cicerone;  insomuch  that  I  am  told  he  has 
never  been  obliged  to  resume  the  ragged  old  brown 
cloak  in  which  I  first  found  him. 

Towards  sunset  I  came  to  where  the  road  wound  into 
the  mountains,  and  here  I  paused  to  take  a  last  look  at 
Granada.  The  hill  on  which  I  stood  commanded  a  glo- 
rious view  of  the  city,  the  Yega,  and  the  surrounding 
mountains.  It  was  at  an  opposite  point  of  the  compass 
from  La  cuesta  de  las  lagrimas  (the  hill  of  tears)  noted  for 
the  "  last  sigh  of  the  Moor."  I  now  could  realize  some- 
thing of  the  feelings  of  poor  Boabdil  when  he  bade  adieu 
to  the  paradise  he  was  leaving  behind,  and  beheld  be- 
fore him  a  rugged  and  sterile  road  conducting  him  to 
exile. 

The  setting  sun  as  usual  shed  a  melancholy  effulgence 
on  the  ruddy  towers  of  the  Alhambra.  I  could  faintly 
discern  the  balconied  window  of  the  tower  of  Comares, 
where  I  had  indulged  in  so  many  delightful  reveries. 
The  bosky  groves  and  gardens  about  the  city  were  richly 
gilded  with  the  sunshine,  the  purple  haze  of  a  summer 
evening  was  gathering  over  the  Yega ;  everything  was 
lovely,  but  tenderly  and  sadly  so,  to  my  parting  gaze. 

"I  will  hasten  from  this  prospect,"  thought  I,  "  before 


THE  LAST  VIEW  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.  511 

the  sun  is  set.     I  will  carry  away  a  recollection  of  it 
clothed  in  all  its  beauty." 

With  these  thoughts  I  pursued  my  way  among  the 
mountains.  A  little  further  and  Granada,  the  Yega,  and 
the  Alhambra,  were  shut  from  my  view ;  and  thus  ended 
one  of  the  pleasantest  dreams  of  a  life,  which  the  reader 
perhaps  may  think  has  been  but  too  much  made  up  of 
dreams. 


THE  END, 


^•1^;^;; 


^i^:-i^f;^g^ 


w'mm 


0**..;;t* 


